


Guns and Roses

by Masterpick



Category: RWBY
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Military, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - War, Battlefield, Blood and Gore, F/F, F/M, Gunshot Wounds, Medical Trauma, Military, Military Background, Other, RWBY au, Reader-Insert, Realistic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-27
Updated: 2017-11-25
Packaged: 2018-08-18 04:15:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 38
Words: 100,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8148806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Masterpick/pseuds/Masterpick
Summary: Military AU, Reader-Insert: Assigned to Excursion Team 7929, callsign RWBY, you meet Ruby, Weiss, Blake, and Yang, each of them legendary special forces soldiers. You're trained, ready to jump into the fight. Will you step up to the challenge placed on your shoulders? When the bullets start flying, will you even survive the Grimm War?





	1. Meet the Team

This is it, Y/N. Something you’ve wanted for a long, long time. You’ve made it through Basic Training. Made it through selection. Got through specialty training, and now you’ve been assigned to Excursion Team 7929 (ET-7929), part of the 44th Special Operations Detachment at Beacon Field in Vale. To be honest, it’s your dream assignment. The 44th is legendary in the war against the Grimm. Everyone out of that detachment is referred to as “Huntsmen” and “Huntresses.” And now, you are about to be one of them.

Beacon Field is impressive. It has been around for a while, so it still has a lot of the older architecture that has been vanishing in Vale. In the center of the field is the control tower, directing and controlling inbound and outbound aircraft from the airstrip nearby. It also serves as a major communications hub to the other military bases in Remnant. That makes it a prime target, but Grimm forces would never reach this far unless something BIG happened. Surrounding the tower are different buildings and hangars containing intel ops, support, armaments, housing, and more. Small courtyards run throughout the complex, where different officers and huntsmen talk, run, work out, socialize, everything. You know that there is more to the base, but you were given the highly abridged tour just yesterday.

Colonel Ozpin, commander at Beacon Field, had just dropped you off on “hangar row,” a strip of hardened buildings along the airstrip containing a variety of helicopters, cargo planes, and fighter jets. He told you that you would meet your team in Hangar HT-46. You have all of your things with you, but… why would you meet the team in a hangar, rather than a normal building or barracks?

Question for another time. As you walk down hangar row, you look to your left at the sound of a very large cargo plane angling in to land on the strip. It hits the ground, puffs of smoke popping up from its tires as it throttles down to begin decelerating. You’ve always wondered how those gigantic things ever make it off of the ground. In truth, you’d rather fly in something small. Like a helicopter, or fighter jet.

Over the sound of the jet, you can hear rock music blasting from a hangar up ahead. Large white numbers painted on the side say “HT-46.” Your hangar.

Heading towards it with your luggage in tow, the rock music gets louder. The front doors are wide open, and you can see the hangar made up as a sort of living quarters. In the center are two sets of bunk beds, very shoddily made up as if they originally weren’t supposed to be like that. Off to the right is a whole wall spattered with different weaponry and equipment. In one corner is a large steel desk neatly organized with papers and a coffeemaker, as a woman clad in blue officer’s dress sits with a laptop in front of her. In the opposite corner is a small workout rack where a blonde girl is doing pull-ups. Another girl, black hair and amber eyes, lays in one of the beds, reading a rather thick book that doesn’t look like a manual or anything official. The last occupant has headphones on at a workbench, and looked to be attaching a new scope to a long, but sexy, sniper rifle.

“Uh… Hi?”

Nobody answers you, all engrossed in their activities.

You speak up a bit, close to a yell over the music. “Excursion Team 7929?”

The blonde dismounts the pull-up bar and turns to look at you. She hits a button to kill the music. “Hey, the rookie showed up!”

The white-haired officer looks at her watch, and then up at you. “Yes. Y/N. Supposed to show up 7 minutes ago.” She waves you over as you drop your stuff. “This is for you. Read it, memorize it, bring it back to me or destroy it when you’re finished.” She pushes a large manila folder into your hands, sealed all around with red tape saying “classified.” It’s thick.

The one working on her rifle shrugs her headphones off. “Welcome to RWBY, Y/N!”

“RWBY?”

“Yup. ET-7929 is just a designation. RWBY is what everyone around here knows us by.”

“Why?”

She points to the folder in your hands. “Read that first. Then we’ll talk.”

 

You sit down on a cot, pushed up against one of the walls. Ripping the tape off of the folder, you open it to see the first page labeled:

#  **Dossier**

**Et-7929**

**“RWBY”**

So that’s why it’s taped and classified. You lean back against the wall and begin to read.

 ... 

 

You fold the envelope up, noting that there are still many more pages to go. Ruby, the girl previously working on the sniper rifle, turns around again to smile at you. “Ruby, Weiss, Blake, Yang. RWBY. Ready to meet the team?”

Weiss chimes in. “First, there’s you. You’re Y/N. Fresh out of specialist training. Never been in combat before. For a rookie, you’re fairly decorated. You saved a guy’s life after a training accident, and carried a squadmate 8 miles after she passed out from heat stroke. You received a medal and a coin for both of those. Your overall performance report states… “ She looks down at a piece of paper. “… that you demonstrate high esprit de corps, but work better in smaller teams.”

You reach a hand back to rub the back of your neck. “Heh. I-“

Blake puts her book down and cuts you off. “Joined because of personal values, stayed for your teammates. Went through specialist training with the intent of being a direct action breacher, came out with a calling to be a medic. You sought out all the medical training you could, and part of your main loadout is an aid kit. You also scored high on marksmanship, and demonstrated above-average proficiency with all standard-issue weapons. Except shotguns.”

Ruby speaks up, glancing at the rifle bag you brought with you. “You roll with a medium loadout. Despite its age, you always have a heavily modified 1911 pistol on your hip.” With that, you bring a hand up to the pistol holstered at your side, as Ruby smiles. “Your main weapon is a Mark 18 with attachments, but you’ve also carried an SR-25 sniper rifle.” Ruby chuckles, and shrugs. “I love the SR-25. And I’m a bit of an equipment nut.”

Yang reracks the bar she was just bench-pressing. Wiping the sweat from her forehead, she nods to you. “Finally, you’ve been trained in hand-to-hand combat, but your unarmed techniques need work. Like my ‘lil sis, you carry a karambit, and you’re right-handed when it comes to shooting and fighting.”

Your gaze falls back to Ruby, with you a little surprised that they knew all of that.

Yang speaks before anyone else. “What, did we scare you?”

“No, just… didn’t expect that.”

Blake sorta smiles. “To tell you the truth, we were the ones who picked you. We know everything about you.”

“And we were very thorough. We even know about that D you got on your report card in 6th grade.” Weiss adds, pulling out a copy of that very report card.

“And now you know who we are, too.” Ruby finishes. “Go ahead and unpack.” She points to your cot. “That’s your bed for now, until support gets us another bunk.”

Weiss leans out from behind her computer, adding “Which may take a while!”

Yang stands, heading to her bunk and her wardrobe. To your surprise, she changes into a short robe right in front of you, with the hangar doors wide open. “Shower’s in the back room. Use the rack as you feel you need.” She turns, tying her robe then pointing at you. “Just remember… if you try to outwork me, I consider it an act of war.”

You glance at your watch. 2100. Night was beginning to fall with Remnant’s shattered moon peeking over the horizon. Ruby comes over and sits next to you as Weiss gets up from her desk and changes out of her officer’s clothes.

“What’s on your mind?”

You weren’t aware that your face was giving away your emotions. “It’s… just that I’m finally here. Trained for the past year and a half and I’m finally assigned to a unit. The famous huntsmen and huntresses. Y’all have a huge name back in the pipeline.”

“We know. And you’ve got big shoes to fill, but we picked you for a reason, Y/N. You get to let your training and your skill do the talking.” She puts her hand on your shoulder. “We’ve got a long day tomorrow. Get some rest.”

You smile at the words, understanding why Ruby is recognized as team leader. “Thanks, Ruby.” You reach down and start undoing the laces on your boots. “Tomorrow, we kick some ass.”

Ruby picks up her rifle and expertly clears it, smiling down at it and rubbing the barrel with a tender hand. “That we will.”


	2. Get Vertical!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Continuation of the RWBY AU. Would love to hear what you think. Chapter 3 coming out soon!

"Hey, rookie!"

You stir, opening your eyes, still surrounded by a sort of sleep fog. You blink it out of your eyes, and remember where you are.

"Get vertical, sunshine. First day starts now." You feel your cot move suddenly as Yang kicks the edge with her boot.

A few seconds later, your entire world is spinning as Yang flips your cot with you in it. "I said get vertical!"

Breaking out of the sleep fog, you stand up. The rest of the team is completely ready, with vests and battle dress on.

Ruby looks at her watch. "Six minute drill." She blows a whistle hanging around her neck.

Six minute drill- a test of how quickly one could go from a dead stop with nothing on to being fully loaded and ready to fight. You've done this many times before. Let the training kick in.

Okay… uniform first. Camouflage pants. Nomex fire-resistant socks. Combat boots- speedlaced, not tied. Synthetic fire-resistant undershirt. Black hardshell jacket, patches on the sleeves. You glance at your watch. Two minutes down.

What's next? Battle belt. Clipped on, loaded with pistol magazines, a holster, and your karambit. Blow-out kit (battlefield aid) on your left hip. Then, plate carrier/vest. You pick it up and sling it over your head, ungrateful for its weight but very thankful for its protection. Clipping it on completely and sturdily, you quickly do the 'jump test,' jumping in place to make sure nothing is flopping around. You grab your gloves, pull them on quickly and don sunglasses before dropping down to a knee next to your rifle case. Quickly unzipping it, you rip out your beloved Mark 18, turning on the sight, pulling out a magazine from your vest and charging your rifle. Charging your weapon was the indication that you had completed the drill.

Ruby looks at her watch again. "5 minutes, 48 seconds. Not bad, Y/N."

Blake steps up to you, looking you over. "Excellent by selection standards. Not by RWBY standards. For one, your secondary isn't charged." Blake taps on the 1911 in your pistol belt. "There are some problems with your kit. Most of your magazine pouches are on the front. You can't pull magazines from there when you're laying down."

Weiss cocks her head. "You're supposed to be a medic. Where are your tourniquets?"

"Huh?"

"Most battlefield deaths occur from severe hemorrhaging. The best way to stop hemorrhaging is either a tourniquet or packing the wound. You were trained on this. How many minutes does it take an arterial bleed to cause a person to go unconscious?"

You blink a few times, sort through the files in your brain. "3 minutes from time of wound to passing out."

"Correct. That's 180 seconds. Your tourniquets are in your squad aid kit on your back, I presume.." Weiss points to an empty spot on your vest. "They should be there. That way, you can access them one-handed from any position. Seconds count in battlefield injuries."

You don't reply, and look around to your teammates' loadouts. Each girl had one in the spot Weiss just pointed to.

Yang looks you over and adds "You're also carrying too much ammo for such a short op. I'm the only one who should need that much ammo."

Ruby shakes her head at Yang's teasing tone. "She's right, you can leave a few magazines here. But remember that if you ever need an extra rounds, Yang has you covered."

You sling your rifle across your back, and take a step forward to Ruby. "What's the op?"

Instead, Weiss speaks up. "The helicopter is fueling and will start its spin-up within 30 minutes. It's a simple shakedown run."

Ruby shifts her weight to her other foot and crosses her arms. "We get to learn how to work with 5 members instead of 4. You get to learn how to work with us." She smiles a bit wider, then adds "Grab anything else you need. Breakfast over at the card table. We're stepping out in 25."

Ruby looks back at the other girls, nods, and they scatter, going to do their own things. You look around for that card table Ruby mentioned, and find it back in the corner behind Weiss's desk. The stacks of files had shielded that area of the hangar from you previously. There are a few cabinets stocked with a variety of different foods. Despite its small size, the corner is stocked like a kitchen. Going through the cabinets, you select two energy bars and a sports drink, sitting down at the circular table next to Weiss. She doesn't look at you as you sit down, but keeps eating a plate of eggs with a fork as her eyes run across a paper in front of her.

"You're Weiss, right?"

"Yup."

"So… what's the team like?"

"They're good. We're good. But that could change."

"What do you mean?"

She looks at you with a stoic, almost disapproving look. "Look, we may have picked you, but you're an unknown. And a liability." She guides another bite to her mouth.

"You don't trust me?"

"I've seen your scores and evaluations. I know that you're the best candidate out of specialist training. But when the shit hits the fan and bullets start flying, I don't know how you're gonna react. And if you get any of my team killed… I swear… you'll wish you died with them."

"Bullshit. I'm trained and ready for-"

Weiss puts up her hand. "Stop."

You pause, getting the tone that she won't really be willing to talk this out. She doesn't even make eye contact with you- she just keeps bringing bites of egg up to her lips before tossing the empty paper plate into the trash.

"I'll see you on the chopper, Weiss."

You get up, opening the two energy bars and wolfing them down. You don't realize how hungry you are until the salty and sweet flavor passes your lips. You glance at your watch- it's 0618. Ruby had said that you were stepping on the flight line at 0625. Might not be a bad idea to do one last equipment check.

You walk over to your cot, and make it into a sort of bench. You leave your battle rig on, but take almost everything out to check and double-check. That includes identification, tags, magazines, ammunition, flares, medical supplies, fast-roping gear, hydration, comms, and more. You carefully look through each item, checking for anything that could fail in the real fight. This was something you did at least three times a day throughout specialist training.

Putting everything back in its place, you clear your weapon and undo the lower receiver pin to pull the bolt carrier group out. It's clean- perfectly scrubbed and oiled. It was an axiom in training that you should spend more time cleaning your weapon than your own body.

You hear Ruby's voice beside you as you slide the bolt back in and reassemble it. "What's its name?"

"Like… my rifle?"

"Yeah."

You cock your head at the piece of equipment in your hands. "I don't really have one for it..."

"That's okay. Most huntsmen and huntresses name their equipment because of a personal connection. These things save lives out there."

"Well, I did name my pistol…"

She raises an eyebrow, silently asking.

"Solution. He's reliable, hits hard, and fits my hand perfectly. I don't miss when I unholster him."

"I like it." She turns to the flight line. You hear it, too- the sound of rotors beginning to spin up. "That's our cue." In a slightly louder voice for the whole team to hear, she shouts "RWBY, let's go!"

You sling your rifle over your back and follow Ruby as the team makes their way out to a steel-colored helicopter closely resembling the ones you flew on during specialist training. This one looked to have more armor. It also had mounted door guns, the barrels protruding aggressively out the sides of the chopper. You can't help but let a smile cross your face as the wind and downblast from the rotors begin to hit you.

Yang jumps in first, going to the far side (the right side) and sitting down on the floor so that her legs dangled outside. You follow her, taking a seat on that edge as well. Before you get comfortable and clip in the harness, Blake speaks up sternly. "Y/N. Get up."

Puzzled, you stand as Ruby instructs you to take a spot on one of the door guns. There's already another gunner sporting sunglasses and an odd amount of jewelry for this sort of thing. She was even wearing high leather boots. As Ruby and Weiss climb in, she turns with a confident smile, leaning on the gun. "RWBY. Welcome aboard."

"Thanks, Coco. Wouldn't rather anyone else along for the ride." Ruby gives her a thumbs up as the bird begins to lurch vertically off of the ground.

Coco turns, eyeing you up and down. "You the rookie?"

You nod, and reply with a stroke of cockiness. "Damn straight."

She chuckles and loses her smile. "Word of advice? Lose the hard shell. You'll live longer."

You glance down at the black jacket you're wearing. Your sleeves are rolled up, leaving your forearms showing. On both upper arms are Velcro squares for placing patches. On your left side, you have the 44th SOD patch. On your right, the double ax crest of Vale. It has vents along the arms and chest, all of which are open. You can't see why she told you to take it off.

Turning back to your door gun, you look over at Yang and Blake. As you fly away from the airfield towards the training grounds, Blake is scanning the ground, her Faunus eyes undoubtedly seeing more than you're able to.

You almost come back to scanning the area over your gun barrel, but do a double-take first. Yang is holding Blake's hand. Nonchalantly. Almost unnoticeably.

Weiss grabs everyone's attention with a shout. It's difficult to hear her over the sound of the helicopter. "Listen up! This is exercise B-68. We ran through it once or twice about three months ago. We're heading to Training Base Goldtown, inserting two miles out. Mission is to retrieve sensitive items located in a simulated Grimm occupied city. 30-40 fighters."

Yang shouts across the helicopter. "What are our rules of engagement?"

"Weapons free on authorized targets. Vehicles are no-engage unless carrying military personnel or weapons. Everyone except the baby-face here knows what Grimm look like. Assume they're all armored."

With a bit of frustration, Yang goes back to scanning with Blake. "Damn it!"

You chime in. "What's your problem?"

"She's mad that we can't blow up any vehicles," Ruby replies.

One of the helicopter pilots turns back to you and the team, and holds up two fingers. "Two minutes! Two minutes out!"

"Hope you remember how to fast-rope, newbie." Yang slides herself backwards to reel out a thick, coiled rope.

You remember. The helo would hover over an acceptable entry point, the coil of rope would be kicked out the door, and you'd slide down it. Establish 360 degrees of security once on the ground. Once the entire team was on the deck, the rope would disconnect and the helicopter would go into a holding pattern until you needed pick-up.

One final weapons check. Primary, loaded and charged. Safety off, semi-automatic firing mode. Solution, loaded and charged. Safety off, hammer cocked back. Fully locked and loaded. You're ready to go.

The helicopter lurches hard, trying to throw you down onto the floor as the pilot quickly yanks the bird to a hovering state.

Just before jumping out, you see Blake squeeze Yang's hand. "You stay safe, Yang."

Yang replies "And you kick some ass!"


	3. Five Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Next installment of Guns and Roses, featuring the reader's first training mission with Team RWBY. Please leave me a comment saying what you think... hearing back from you guys means the world and makes my day! Chapter 4 isn't too far away.
> 
> I will also be putting out a "reference guide" in the near future detailing what a lot of this military equipment and what not looks like. No need to read it if you like visualizing and imagining things on your own. 
> 
> And as one final remark... Sooner or later, the reader is going to grow out of the "rookie phase" and take on a nickname other than "Rook" or "Newbie." I want your input on the nickname/alias/callsign! Comments work, as do messages on tumblr.
> 
> I'll shut up now. Hope you enjoy!

“Deploy!” One of the helicopter pilots shouts back to Team RWBY.

Yang kicks the rope out the door, letting it fall and dangle above the ground. Blake is the first to grab it and drop out of sight, followed by Yang.

You’re next. Your rifle is already slung across your back, and you step up to the rope, grabbing it firmly with both hands. You leap out of the helicopter, sliding down far so that you don’t hit your head when you swing back. When you’re only a few feet above the ground, you let go, dropping to a knee, recovering your weapon, and taking a few steps forward to allow Ruby and Weiss room to come down.

Weiss gives the wave-off command as the pilot disconnects the rope and quickly climbs, gaining altitude and safety. From your training, you know that he’ll establish an orbit in case you need fire support or a quick pick-up.

As the helicopter flies away, you hear Ruby call out “One up.” It was a check to make sure everyone was accounted for and unwounded.

Weiss follows, then Blake, Yang, and yourself.

“Two up.”

“Three up.”

“Four up.”

“Five up.”

“Blake, on point. We’ll hoof it from here. Rook, you take rear security. Roll out.” Ruby seems… confident. You saw her leadership potential off of the battlefield in the way she took care of her team- which included you- but the same potential shines through here with her confidence.

RWBY’s pace is a fast one, but it doesn’t sacrifice caution. Those two miles fade away in less than a half hour as you and the four others on your team find an excellent vantage point overlooking Goldtown. Goldtown is impressive compared to the other training bases you were pushed through. It resembles one of the many small villages that exists in Mistral- roughly a dozen buildings, some two or three stories, surrounded by walls to protect from both wild animals and as an inherent defense against any infilitrating GRIMM parties. It may be primitive, but it is effective.

“Are all the Beacon training cities this way?” you ask.

Ruby answers the question in a hushed tone. “It’s one of two. The other is actually Mountain Glenn.”

“Isn’t that right on the edge of GRIMM territory?”

“Sometimes, the best training is on the job.”

Weiss chimes in. “This hardly compares to the facilities we had in Atlas.”

Ruby quickly refocuses the mission. “I’m going to stay up here on this vantage point, provide limited fire support if you need it. Weiss, partner with Y/N and find a breach in the wall. You know the intel.”

Ruby looked to the two on her left. “Bumbleby, I want you on top of that wall. You can freely circle the city that way and potentially cover Weiss and Y/N if they need it. Blake has target priority since she’s silent. Keep your shots tight, don’t go loud unless you need to.”

_Going loud. Firing an unsuppressed weapon would tell any ‘Grimm’ within a half mile radius that they were there._

Weiss purses her lips, visibly frustrated at the situation but nodding in acknowledgement of Ruby’s command. “Let’s go, newbie.”

You shake your head, following Weiss down the slope with Yang and Blake in tow. You break out of the treeline and cross to the wall with the team.  Once you get to the wall, you notice that there are many weaknesses in it, making it easy to climb.

“Yang and I will go up here.” Blakes says, and moments after, Yang sits against the wall and cups her hands, giving Blake a boost as she starts to climb. Before turning away, Yang gives you a wink and a thumbs-up, mouthing the words “Good luck.” You nod, and follow Weiss around the perimeter of the wall.

Weiss hasn’t said anything to you, or signaled to you, or let you know what the “intel” was that Ruby talked about. Completely cold-shoulder.

Still skirting the wall, you notice a small hole about a foot and a half wide, from what looks to be an old drainage culvert, with a few inches up mud in the bottom. Both you and Weiss stop, and you get down on your hands and knees to judge if you can make it. You can.

Weiss talks quietly into her radio microphone. “Ruby, we’re entering Goldtown through a small wall breach on the eastern exposure. Going silent inside.”

“Copy, good hunting.”

As you wiggle your way into the culvert, mud sloshes around you, but it’s just an annoyance, as long as you keep it up out of your rifle. The whole thing is about 6 feet long, and as you peek your head out of the other side, you see soft targets resembling the upper half of the human body at normal height. They are rolling around on a small remotely controlled electric cart. You’ve seen these in training before- nicknamed “Wanderers.”

The closest one that you see at the moment is about ten feet away, and “driving” away from you, indicating that it wouldn’t react to you unless you get very close.

Timing it right, you pull yourself out of the hole and to your feet, silently closing the distance and plunging your karambit into the base of the neck, rendering it “killed” by training standards. Weiss follows, and with an unmoving expression, she gives you the “follow me” hand signal. You nod, and stay with her, turning around occasionally to watch your back.

Goldtown is a training city that is impressive in its size but rivaled by its simplicity. There are wide asphalt roads that run throughout it, as well as side-paths that lead between the buildings. Everything is in a standard “grid” format, with the roads and buildings at right angles to eachother. The buildings are a mix of concrete and wood structures, containing doors and windows but no paint. The lack of actual people as well as decorations and color in the town gives it a lucid, ghost-like feel. The worst part is the silence. Only the occasional faint hum of the motors on the wanderers rolling by breaks up the eeriness.

Timing your movements and staying out of the relative line of sight of each wanderer you see, you come to a two-story building resembling a tavern. Weiss signals to you to breach the door.

You try the door handle. It’s unlocked. You ease the door open, checking each corner for wanderers as you slowly make your way into the main room.

“Room clear,” You say in a low voice, and Weiss follows you in, shutting the door behind both of you.

It’s a fairly simple room, without wall paper or paint or any decorations. However, there is furniture- tables and chairs spread about the place as if it was meant to be a bar/restaurant. You scan the room, noting the two entrances from other rooms, and only one door back to the outside.

Weiss’s eyes dart around the room, not saying anything to you as she goes behind a counter in the center of the room to start rifling through cabinets.

You step over to Weiss, and ask in a very low tone. “What exactly are we looking for?”

Weiss puts up a finger, pulling open drawers and cabinets. Her eyes light up towards the end of the bar as she pulls out a small briefcase from a drawer. A typical training prop.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see something move.

Wanderer. Just entered the room. You whip your rifle up to your shoulder and reflexively shoot, one round landing in its chest followed by a second one to the head. You remember Weiss’s mission brief: _Assume they’re all armored._

Weiss stumbles back at the sudden sound of gunfire, then grabs you and shoves you towards the door.

“Move it, rookie! Outside!”

She sprints out the door, now at a run towards the culvert you came from before. You follow, hot on her heels.

“Ruby, Y/N compromised us! Judy on the sensitive information. We need cover on our way out.”

“Roger, covering. Yang and Blake, weapons hot.”

You don’t hear a reply from Yang or Blake, but you hear the sound of a loud machine gun behind you, indicating that Yang was actively shooting. You sprint down the street and turn a corner, coming near face-to-face with a wanderer. Not thinking, you tackle it and take it to the ground, disabling it by pulling solution and emptying two rounds into it at point-blank range. Looking up, another two are heading straight towards you. Weiss’s pistol erupts, ‘killing’ one of them while a well-timed shot from Ruby takes down the other.

Back on your feet. Back to a run. Your breaths are coming much quicker now. You dive, sliding back into the mud of the hole you came from. You crawl out the other side, coming back to your feet and offering Weiss a hand to help pull her through. She refuses.

Look to your right. Blake and Yang are dismounting the wall, and leap-frogging up the hill to Ruby. One would post up and fire while the other moved, then they’d switch, effectively always shooting back.

You turn around and post up with your rifle to do the same concept, firing at a wanderer appearing on the wall. Weiss sprints past you, but keeps going.

“What the hell?!” you shout, throwing up one of your hands to Weiss. She doesn’t notice. You run for about a half mile, following your team. The five of you circle up in a dense section of trees, creating a perimeter with guns pointed outwards.

Ruby is the first to talk. “Weiss, call the helicopter in. We’ll meet them at the primary pickup point. Blake, on point.”

Blake nods, still breathing slightly hard from the run. So are you.

Weiss gathers her composure and presses the push-to-talk on her radio. “Maiden, RWBY 2. Jackpot on sensitive intel. Will meet Phoenix 1-1 at the primary pick-up point.”

A woman’s voice crackles through from the other side. “RWBY 2, Maiden. Phoenix 1-1 acknowledges and will meet you there in 5. Maiden out.”

You take the magazine out of your rifle and slide a fresh one in. You learned in your training that it was always good procedure to have a new, fully loaded weapon. You do the same with Solution, sliding him out of his holster and swapping magazines as Blake starts to move.

By your count, it’s less than a mile to the pickup point, which is a large clearing flanked on three sides by treelines, and a rock formation jutting out of the ground on the fourth. You and the rest of RWBY spread out in a the treeline, and less than a minute later, Phoenix 1-1, the bird you came in on, flies straight over your head. It makes a large clockwise circle around the clearing, and cuts back in, slowing down and angling in to land. At Ruby’s command, you get up and start on a light run to the helicopter, jumping in and standing behind one of the door guns as the rest of the team piles in. When Weiss gets in, she kneels behind both of the pilots, looking back and giving them a tap on the shoulder once all five of you are inside. As the rotors throttle back up, the helicopter lurches off of the ground on the way back to base.

“One up.”

“Two up.”

“Three up.”

“Four up.”

“Five up.”


	4. Ice Queen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Ice Queen" and the Reader 'talk' out their scrap before Ozpin shows up. Blake hints at a deeper story, and RWBY gets called up on the reader's first real mission. Let me know what you think!

Phoenix 1-1 climbs in altitude, banking on a bearing pointing it back towards the airfield. It takes you a minute or two to catch your breath, and a few minutes more for the nerves to fade away. It’s a quiet ride, Weiss staying up by the pilots, Blake and Yang sitting with their legs dangling out, and Ruby standing against the rear bulkhead, looking over the landscape as the woodland gives way to the urban center of Vale. She waves at some kids in a school playground as you fly over. It’s a decent break in the mood, but it still doesn’t make you forget about Weiss’s actions. Still doesn’t make you any less angry.

The city transitions to grassland just before coming to Beacon Field, the helicopter cycling through the pattern and then coming to a hover, vertically descending until its wheels are once again resting flat on the ground. You and the rest of Team RWBY dismount as the rotors start slowing down. The walk across the field to the hangar is hot- hot enough that you can see the heat waves coming up off of the tarmac.

Yang opens the hangar doors, and you walk over to your little cot area and begin taking all of your gear off. You set your rifle back down in its case, your combat rig leaning up against the edge of the cot. You unzip your top, and feel the sudden rush of coolness run over you as sweat begins to dry off of your body.

You turn around. Weiss is almost completely de-geared, too. It’s time to have a talk.

“Weiss!”

She turns, looking at you with narrowed eyes and crossed arms. “What?”

You point a finger out of the hangar. “What the heck was that? Is it standard protocol to just run past a teammate, not cover them, and leave them as an open target?”

“You lived, didn’t you?”

“If that was a real fight…”

“You’ve never been in ‘real’ combat before, Y/N. Things are different.”

Yang comes over, a serious look that you’ve never seen before on her face. “Hey, Ice Queen, chill out.”

“Chill out?! This… insufferable little baby-face compromised everything!” She steps up to you, putting a hurtful finger in your chest. “YOU could’ve gotten us killed. All of us! You put the whole team in danger because you couldn’t close the distance to a target in time.”

You raise your voice. “What’s your problem with me? Why can’t you just trust me to do the job I’ve trained the past year and a half for?”

Ruby steps between you two, pushing both of you backwards. “Hey! Fighting stops when we’re back in the hangar.”

Ruby turns to Weiss. “Weiss, today is Y/N’s first day on the job with us. You remember how uncoordinated we were on our first day together. Don’t get hostile.”

She turns to you. “Y/N, maybe Weiss didn’t cover you because in a real situation, the focus would be on Blake and Yang since they were the majority of the noise. You should’ve gotten up to me as quick as you could, and then covered the two of them as they got back up. How you were trained isn’t correct 100% of the time.” She puts a hand on your shoulder. “First day is always rough. Don’t let it get to you.”

Calming down a bit, you nod to her. Weiss shakes her head and turns around, heading back and sitting at her desk. “I have reports to write.” She’s just about to sit down when she stands back up and snaps to attention.

You turn to see Colonel Ozpin walking into the hangar. He’s dressed in a green military uniform, but most of the accoutrements and medals are ones you don’t recognize. It is clean and pressed, while his small circular glasses and longer white hair stand out of standard Vale military regulations. In one hand is a grey coffee mug with Vale’s crest, while the other hand rests loosely on a cane. “Good afternoon, Team RWBY.” You come to attention and raise your hand in a salute. He returns it. “How was the mission?”

Ruby is the first one to respond. “A success, sir, but the exit wasn’t pretty.”

“So I read.”

Weiss pipes up. “It started out as a textbook infiltration, which shattered after Y/N fired an unsuppressed weapon at a target.”

“I see.” He takes a sip of coffee from the mug in his hand. “Good work on the successful mission, RWBY. Y/N, I’d like to speak with you. Privately.”

You nod, stepping up beside him as he turns to walk out of the hangar. You follow on his left side, the superior officer always walking on the right. Both of you traverse part of the flightline, watching as fully loaded jets take off and others come back in, some battle-damaged and limping. However, you’re far enough away that the noise of the engines doesn’t bother you.

“So. How are you settling in with the team?”

“Sir?”

“I get the feeling that you and Captain Schnee are having a few… disagreements.”

“Well, she’s got a point, sir. My actions compromised the team.”

“Y/N, Goldtown has cameras throughout it and the techs have control of the wanderers. I know that I’m going to read in Weiss’s report that you compromised the security of the mission.” He pauses. “But I saw that the only option available to you was to shoot.”

You don’t say anything, watching a fighter jet throttle up and take off.

“What about the rest?”

“Well… Ruby is a good team leader. And she’s a crack shot. Yang seems… off-the-wall. Like this stuff is a game to her. And she doesn’t have much of a filter. Blake… I can’t get a read on Blake. It’s like she’s never interested or always has something on her mind.”

He pushes his glasses up on his nose. “Have you ever asked her what’s on her mind?”

“No, but… I get the impression that her and Yang have… something going on?”

“You wouldn’t be wrong. They also have a pretty significant past, but that’s for them to tell you. Get to know your team. You’ll be depending on them soon enough.” He turns around, starting your walk back to HT-46. You begin to switch to his other side, but he stops you. “One more thing… I command out of respect, not out of formality. You don’t have to salute me, or walk on a specific side.”

“Yes… sir.”

Ozpin takes another sip of whatever liquid is in his mug. “And if you ever want to talk to me, please don’t hesitate to ask.”

You let out a bit of a breath, and nod. “I will. Thank you.” He leaves you to walk to a white car and drive away.

You can see the hangar still, and as you walk through the doors, you only see Blake sitting on her bed, laid completely down with her eyes closed. She opens them when you walk in and closes them again, somewhat ignoring you to catch some sleep.

“Where’s everybody else?” You ask, somewhat softly.

“Showering. We’re not out of the woods yet. We’re on call for support in a half hour. No guarantee we’ll head out, but we need to be ready. Do whatever you need to do.”

“Thanks.” You sit on the edge of your cot, pulling nearly everything you have off of your top. You pull out soap, shampoo, conditioner, preparing to grab a shower like Weiss, Ruby, and Yang, but as you’re doing so, you have a thought.  “Hey… you and Yang are a thing, aren’t you?”

Blake opens her eyes again, locking somewhat tired eyes with you. “Why are you asking?”

“I saw you holding her hand on the helicopter ride out. And that exchange before we jumped out.”

Blake chuckles, sorta nonchalantly. “Yeah. We have a history. And you could say we’re together now.”

“A history? I read that Yang came through with Ruby.”

“And you’d be right.”

Yang’s voice echoes from the showers. “She’s not telling you the full story, is she?” The blonde walks past you in a robe and a towel, her hair already dried.

Blake’s voice drops in volume and mood. “Yang…”

“I’m not going to.” The blonde replies to Blake’s implied plea.

Blake turns to look at you. “Let’s just say that I grew up outside of the kingdoms.”

“I’m sorry…”

“Don’t be. I’m stronger for it. Drop it there.”

“I’m just glad to have this wuvely, wittle kitty cat with us now.” Yang leans down and pecks Blake on the lips. Blake somewhat blushes but smiles as Yang pulls away.

Weiss chimes in, emerging from the showers. “If you stay with us, and you live long enough to do it, I’m sure one of them will tell you it all.”

Ruby follows Weiss out, sorta shaking her head. “20 minutes to refit for on-call.”

Acknowledging Ruby’s statement, you gather your things and hit the shower. The hot water is much needed to get the mud from the mission off of your face and arms. It’s uneventful, except for when you hear Yang laughing and then yelling “Fire in the hole!” as she throws an open shampoo bottle into the showers with you, with white lilac-scented goo erupting over you. You spend more time than you’d like getting it off of you, because scent is one thing that can give you away on the battlefield.

Less than 15 minutes later, all of your gear is back on, and RWBY is officially on-call. From what you’ve read, the ‘front’ has been relatively quiet, so you’re not expecting to saddle up. But anything can happen.

You stand over at the weapons bench next to Ruby, both of you with your guns apart as the smell of cleaning solvents and burned gunpowder hovers in the air. It doesn’t require much- just a brush of the bolt carrier group and a quick swab of the barrel brings your Mark 18 back up to your standards.

Even though Ruby only fired one shot, you notice how much care she is putting into her gun. “So… what’s its name?”

“Crescent Rose… personally modified, customized, and rebuilt by me.”

“How many kills?”

“I’ve never counted, to be honest. It… doesn’t feel right to count taking another human’s life as a trophy.”

Your eyebrows perk up, mostly in surprise. “Well… nice shot today.”

“Oh, that was nothing. 200 yards at the most, and the target had stopped. Only thing I had to worry about was you and Weiss.”

“It’s still impressive.”

A slight smile crosses her face. “You’re just saying that…”

“No, really.”

“Maybe, maybe not. In the end, it would’ve saved both your life and Weiss’s.”

“Exactly.”

She shakes her head, still smiling as she slides the bolt back into her sniper rifle and reassembles it. She doesn’t reply.

“Think we’re gonna have to head out this afternoon?”

“Not sure. It could go either way.”

You cock an eyebrow. “Something I should know about?”

“Something you’re not cleared to know about. Not yet.” She pauses. “But I know you’ve seen the jets going out fully loaded and coming back with battle damage. And you know that they don’t normally put fledglings like you with less than a day of team training on-call. That should give you an idea. You may get a baptism-by-fire.”

You nod, wondering what Ruby was talking about, but not pressing it since she made it obvious that you don’t have the right clearance for that info. Yet.

Almost on cue with your thoughts, Weiss stands up from her computer, yelling across the hangar. “Atlas troops in contact are requesting aid. Phoenix 1-1 is spinning up.”

Ruby kinda smiles and adds “Let’s roll, RWBY!”

Blake jumps up from her bed as Ruby and Yang collect their weapons. You do the same, clipping it on by the sling and pulling your gloves on.

Weiss heads over to her bed and pulls a rifle case out from under it. She opens it, revealing an older-looking M16 with a specialized grenade launcher on the underside.

You lean over to Ruby. “I thought she didn’t roll with a rifle.”

“She calls it Myrtenaster. Atlas technology. Classified even to me. I’ve only seen her use it when we’re helping Atlesian troops.”

Picking the gun up and shoving different ammunition into her loadout, she nods to Ruby and all five of you start on a jog across the tarmac to the same helicopter you rode on this morning.

On the run, Yang gives you a nudge. “Ready to pop that combat cherry?”

You let out a slight chuckle. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

Weiss, running on the opposite side of you, adds on “Just don’t die on us, rookie. Too much paperwork.”


	5. Flip the Switch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait! New chapter with a bit more action, a bit more Bumbleby, and a bit more Weiss. Be advised that this chapter contains some very graphic and violent scenes (hence the rating being bumped up to Mature). Please let me know what you think!

"Holy shit!" Yang is the first one to speak up at the sight of the column of black smoke rising up from the surface.

The helicopter is less than five miles from the lines of Atlas and Grimm troops, and you can already see the intensity of the fighting. Small flashes of light and puffs of smoke erupt around some figures moving in trenches and improvised cover. Some aren't moving at all. Large shapes thinly veiled by camouflage also move along the landscape, indicating vehicles moving and fighting. Neither side seems to have an advantage,as Atlesian troops marked by white and gray uniforms hold their ground on a small hill.

Blake responds to Yang's exclamation. "Atlas is in deep. Ironwood really needed to beef up this sector more."

Ruby's gaze narrows at the situation on the ground as she responds across the helicopter. "That's why we're here. To make it better."

Blake shakes her head. "We're an excursion team, not an assault team. We're good, but we don't have the firepower for this. Not with those Ursa."

Ursa. Battle tanks with medium armor. Troop-carried rocket launchers could penetrate and destroy them, but only with a good (and lucky) shot. Judging from the two smoking Ursa lower down on the slope, Atlas troops were putting up a good fight, but still steadily losing ground.

Weiss chimes in. "Three Ursa shouldn't be a problem if we have air support." She keys in her comm as the helicopter circles over the Atlas position. "Maiden, RWBY 2. Situation report. Atlesian troops engaged with superior numbers and armor. Multiple wounded. Phoenix 1-1 is circling the AO."

You hear another voice, the same woman as before. "RWBY 2, Maiden. Sitrep acknowledged. Orders remain the same: Assist troops and evacuate the wounded until more Atlas ground forces arrive."

"Maiden, RWBY 2. Request close air support. Are there any strike packages in the area I can request?"

"RWBY 2, Maiden. Standby on that request."

"Roger. RWBY 2 standing by."

At that, Yang shouts at you. "Y/N! Get that 50 rolling. Let's give our boys a little close air support of our own." She turns and shouts to the pilots, a bit louder. "1-1, give us a strafe out the right side. Right across our line!"

With a thumbs up back to you and Yang, the pilots bank the bird and line it up, slowing down as you begin to run parallel with the Atlas lines.

You reach forward and rack the charging handle on the door gun, swinging it to bear on the Grimm lines. Sighting down the barrel, you depress the thumb trigger. The gun fires, lobbing 50-cal bullets towards the ground. You fire in short bursts, peppering a team of about a dozen Grimm troops near the Ursa closest to Atlas lines.

The sounds and sensations of firing the big gun only serves to add to your adrenaline. The whole helicopter seems to shake whenever you send down another hail of bullets. As they impact the ground, puffs of dirt and sand pop up. Despite your efforts, however, Grimm troops scatter to take cover from your gun. But… it does take some of the pressure off of your Atlas counterparts.

"RWBY 2, Maiden. Strike package is being chopped to you and will arrive on station in 10 minutes. Two Raptors, two Warthogs on scene for 30 minutes. Make them count. Good luck, RWBY 2. Maiden out."

Weiss smiles, turning to Ruby and nodding. "We've got air. They'll be over us in 10."

Ruby looks down, seeming to think for a moment before turning to Yang. "Freezerburn on the ground. Rook, you're with them. Ladybug will stay up top and do what we can from the air. Phoenix 1-1 will stay in the orbit for emergency medical evacuation."

"Got it, sis!" Yang calls out.

Weiss steps up to the pilots, shouting directions for the drop-off. She turns back to you and Yang, pointing at the hill Atlas troops are defending. "We're gonna do a roll-out right at the top of the hill. It's gonna be fast!"

Yang pulls a pair of sunglasses out of her rig, grinning as the helicopter banks hard and begins descending. Before getting up from her usual spot to take your place on the door gun, you once again see Blake squeeze Yang's hand. "Be safe, Yang."

A spark in her eyes, Yang turns, and presses a teasing kiss to Blake's cheek. "Easier said than done, sweetheart."

Blake shakes her head, and gets up as you kneel next to Yang. The helicopter is about 50 feet above the ground, and rapidly descending as the hill- more of a knoll now- gets bigger and bigger. The entire hill is covered with oven-sized boulders, giving you ideal cover. No wonder Atlas chose to hold a strongpoint at this position.

20 feet. You scan the ground and look for your landing point. All of a sudden, you notice a large, bright object out of the corner of your eye come screaming past the helicopter. The smell of ozone and rocket fuel fills your nostrils as you look at the contrails of whatever that was.

Then it hits you.

That was a rocket. You were just shot at.

This… this is real now.

"Go, rookie!"

You glance away from the contrail to see the helicopter slowly moving about 5 feet off of the ground.

"Get out of the bird!" Weiss gives you a hard shove on the back as you slip out of the helicopter. Well, more of a fall at this point. The ground hurdles up and you collide with it, knocking the wind out of your lungs as Weiss's form lands beside you, on her feet.

Yang rolls out of her fall a few feet away from you, getting up immediately. "Nailed it!"

"Charge to contact! Get to Atlas!" Weiss hauls you to your feet and starts running down the hill.

Weiss sprints ahead of you, sliding down the hill at certain points and shouting to an Atlas soldier ahead of her. "Friendlies to your rear!" She slides into cover next to him, grabbing his shoulder when she gets there.

At a slightly slower pace, you make it down to a rock behind the two of them, posting up over the top of it. You hear their conversation.

"Soldier! Where's your commanding officer?"

"A bit farther down the hill, ma'am… Lieutenant Vance."

"Are you wounded? How are you on ammo?"

"I took one to the plate… not breathing so well…" He straightens up a bit. "But I can still fight. I've got ammo."

She gives him a reassuring squeeze on his shoulder. "We're from the 44th. We'll get you out."

You see the soldiers eyes widen as he glances down at Weiss's nametape, a spark of fire and vigor going through his eyes. "Yes, ma'am!"

Weiss looks back to you, motioning her head down the hill as she gets back up and heads farther down. Before following her, you look around. The hill is bald- lots of lower grass broken up by the oven-sized boulders scattered across it. Lower down, a scattering of pine trees, many with bare spots and some charred to black. The trees get decisively thicker at a treeline, starting about 100 yards out from where the hill flattens out. The Ursa are spread out in the field between the hill and the treeline.

You follow Weiss, bouncing from rock to rock to stay out of the line of fire. Sporadic bursts of gunfire can be heard all in front of you. You feel your heart pounding in your ear, and beads of sweat are beginning to form on your brow. It's a new form of adrenaline for you- a sort of feeling you've never had before. It puts you on edge. Every fiber in your body is telling you that this is… wrong. Unnatural to be running towards imminent danger. But you follow Weiss, doing exactly what she does.

Once, on a longer sprint, you see and feel the shockwave from a round hitting the ground just in front of you. The puff of dirt rises and gets into your eyes, making you blink hard while you get behind another rock.

Weiss is about 20 yards ahead of you. She peers around the corner of her cover, and sprints the rest of the way to the Atlas line before dropping into what looks to be a hasty, makeshift trench.

"You get down to that trench! I'm gonna stay up here and lay down what fire I can." Yang is suddenly beside you, her sunglasses put away. "You alright, Y/N?"

"Fine. Just... Getting used to being shot at."

"It never gets easier. Get your ass down to that trench!"

With a shove from Yang, you're once again sprinting down the hill, sliding and falling into the trench when you get there. It's not a trench at all. It's a dried-up creek with about two dozen Atlas soldiers that you can see, some up on the edge and actively shooting back. Some are bandaged up and wounded. Some are covered with black sheets.

"Vance, I need to know what happened here. This was supposed to be a textbook push."

Weiss is talking to a younger woman bearing lieutenant's insignia.

"Captain, intel screwed us. Our orders were to push into the treeline and then wheel right or left based on how the battalions on either side of us did in the initial attack." She pauses, and then adds "We didn't expect a fucking tank column! Command dropped the damn ball."

"Command has enough problems of their own. It's not their fault. How many shooters do you have?

"What you see is Marshal Company. Started with about 150. I've got at least a dozen dead, another dozen wounded but able to fight. My guys are spread out from here to about 50 yards from the base of the hill. Those Ursa are kicking our ass. We requested air, but all available air is already tasked to capacity. They just told us to wait for a fucking ground convoy." Another pause as she looks down and back up to Weiss. "Captain Schnee… ma'am, all I care about is getting my boys out safe."

Weiss responds coldly, her eyes definite as she looks at the young lieutenant. "Vance, if the Grimm push you back from here, the flanks of both of those battalions will be history. The 44th has air coming in less than 2 minutes. We'll take care of those Ursa and help you on your objective. But you can't let your troops fall back. Got it?"

Vance closes her eyes and lets out a long, pained sigh before looking at Weiss again with an almost hopeless gaze. "Yes… ma'am…"

Weiss points at you. "This is Y/N, our medic. I've got Specialist Yang Xiao Long higher up on suppression. Two more huntresses are in orbit in that Pave Hawk. If anyone needs immediate evacuation, we can get them out."

The sound of jets screaming overhead causes all three of you to look up. Two fast-moving fighter jets, followed by a pair of A-10s . The fast-movers turn and split away from the A-10s, climbing in altitude. They would shield the two latter from any Grimm jets that entered the AO.

A very confident and bold female voice comes onto comms. "Air Element 5677 established in the overhead. Callsign JNPR, on station for 30 minutes. You reading us on the ground, RWBY?"

Yang lets out a whoop from her vantage point above you. "Hell yeah! We got JNPR!"

Weiss keys in her radio, breathing a gentle sigh of relief at the sight of air support. "Good to hear from you, Pyrrha."

"Likewise. Transferring to Jaune."

Another voice, a younger man's, comes on. "Pick your targets and we'll hit them, RWBY."

Weiss gives the lieutenant a reassuring nod and crawls up the creek bed to peer over the top. "Jaune, main targets are three Ursa tanks about 75 meters from the treeline. Secondary targets are infantry at base of hill. Both targets are danger close."

"Got it. Mark targets with phosphorus. Flower Power will make a northeast to southwest pass in 30 seconds."

Weiss reaches down to her belt and unpackages a white-tipped grenade launcher round. She slides it in, taking a stance over the top as you hear the whistle of bullets over your head. A second later, you hear the loud thump of the round going out, and see a streak of burning white phosphorus arc and land on the northmost tank. "Nora, target marked."

Yet another woman's voice, very high and almost comical, comes on. "Alllright! Gigantic explosions inbound. We're coming through."

"Cleared hot!"

The two A-10s that you saw earlier, one with green and black markings and the other with a pink heart as a tailflash, roll in as a cheer rises amongst the Atlas troops. Rockets from Nora land clearly on the first tank, while the gatling gun firing 30mm rounds on the front of Ren's plane spins up to strafe the remaining two. All three erupt into flames while thick, oily smoke rolls off of them.

Both A-10s bank hard, with Ren looking back at the damage and Nora waving to everyone on the ground. You hear their engines spin up as they climb in altitude to wait for more targets.

An Atlas soldier besides you shakes his head. "Angels do exist."

You nod, a bit of a smile on your face. Weiss turns back to Lt. Vance. "Press the attack, Vance. You've got the advantage now."

She gets to her feet, climbing up over the top. "Let's go, Marshal Company! Show these assholes not to fuck with Atlas!" Following her and Weiss, you get to your feet as well and climb up the creek bed, practically shoulder-to-shoulder with Vance as both of you run down the hill.

As you run, you hear several hisses and cracks around you as bullets pass above your head. Vance is slightly faster than you, and while you head towards a rock for cover, you feel the sudden spray of a warm fluid across your face. Vance is no longer next to you when you get behind cover. Looking back up the hill, you see her body, a large chunk of her head missing. You can see bits of grey mixed with red, oxygenated blood swimming around in what's left of her skull.

Weiss is beside you again, breathing hard with dirt covering her face. She doesn't seem to even know you're there as she robotically loads another round into her grenade launcher.

Then, the realization comes that you haven't even fired a shot yet.

You bring your gun up to your shoulder and lean out from the side of the rock.

Both eyes open.

Scan for targets.

Focus on the reticle.

Target Grimm in ditch, 60 yards down the hill. His gun is pointed at another Atlas soldier, he doesn't see you.

Fire.

He jumps and disrupts his aim. You… missed? Fire again. And again. Hit. His hand shoots up to his neck, clamping down on bright, arterial blood.

Scan for more targets. Be sequential and have a plan. More Grimm troops in ditch. Fire shots over their heads to keep them down. One head pops up. Fire. His helmet flies off, he ducks back below the edge of the ditch.

You hear the loud thump of Weiss's grenade launcher again as the soldier you just shot at flies out of the ditch when her grenade explodes.

Lean out from cover. Scan for targets. Grimm farther down the hill. Fire a few more shots, gun doesn't fire. The bolt is locked back- you're out of ammo. Press magazine release, stab a new magazine from your gear into the gun, press bolt release.

No shots coming past you. That means move. You're either moving, shooting, or communicating on the battlefield. That's how you were trained. Get out of cover. Sprint down the hill.

Rounds are coming by you again. You drop behind the nearest thing that will serve as cover. It's a low stone wall, and you're not the only one here. Atlas soldiers look up at you as you slide in.

With bloodshot eyes, an Atlas soldier looks you over and straightens up a bit. "The 44th is here?"

"Yeah. We called in that air."

"You guys are fucking legends. What do we do, sir?"

Two soldiers behind the one you're talking to look around him to see your nametape. Their eyes widen, speaking in low voices to eachother.

You look up over the wall, ducking right after as a round ricochets off the top of it, narrowly missing you. "Our objective is to push Grimm out of this AO to provide security for the rest of the force."

More shots go over your head, followed by Yang sliding in next to you. "Situation?"

"Grimm at the base of the hill backed up to the treeline. We need to close ground. Are you good to suppress?"

"Locked and loaded!"

You turn back to the three Atlas soldiers. "You three. Yang's gonna give you suppression." You arch up, and point to a larger pile of boulders about 15 yards ahead. "I need you to make it up to that outcropping. Watch your flanks. Don't stop to fire."

The man closest to you responds "Yes, sir!" Turning around, he motions over the top of the wall. "Let's go, boys!"

Yang comes up over the top of the wall, pulling the trigger of her gun and spraying fully automatic fire over the Grimm in cover at the bottom of the hill. You come up, too, firing to cover the men advancing in front of you. You hold your breath as they run, watching the dirt erupt around them. All three make it, and you breathe a sigh of relief, that's cut short when the one you were talking to goes over the top once again.

"What are they doing?"

"Doesn't matter. Give him cover!" Yang pulls the trigger of her weapon again, continuing to pepper Grimm at the bottom of the hill to keep their heads down. You do the same, but before long, your magazine is dry, and you drop back behind cover to reload.

Same procedure. Press mag release, stab a new mag in-

"I'm jammed!" Yang stops firing as her gun malfunctions. She drops down, opening it up to try and dig the jammed round out. You finish reloading and peer up over the top again, just in time to hear the high-pitched sound of a mortar shell falling. You duck down below the wall and feel the ground shake as the round impacts the earth.

Screams. Your ears are ringing as you look down the hill at the soldiers you just sent. Two are gone. In pieces. The one who was just on top of the rocks is on the ground, clutching his arm and screaming.

His shrieks echo in your mind. You have to get to him. It's what you do. It's why you switched to medical training.

You mount the stone wall.

Then, you're being pulled backward. Hauled to the ground.

Yang pushes you into the dirt, in cover behind the wall. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Saving that soldier!" You shove Yang, trying to get out of her grip.

"You wouldn't make it with those mortars." Yang puts more of her weight onto you, not letting you go anywhere.

You grab her collar, pulling her a bit closer as your gaze narrows in anger. "I can't just leave him out there."

"And what if you get hit? Huh? You can't save anyone else if you're dead."

Your voice comes up to a shout. "I have to try!"

"You won't make it!"

Weiss comes up beside you, low-crawling to the wall. "Are you crazy?!"

In the same aggressive tone, you reply: "That soldier is going to die if I just sit here! I have to get to him."

Weiss grabs you as Yang releases her grip, and hauls you to a sitting position. "Y/N, these soldiers are Atlas. My troops. Technically, I'm their commanding officer at the moment." She glances over the wall at the wounded soldier, still screaming and rolling as more and more blood pours out of his arm. "Look, you can't control who gets shot, or who gets hit by a mortar, or why. This… chaos is not up to you, and you can't control any of it."

You look down at your hands, shaking. The soldier's screams are still coming over the sound of the mortars.

"Remember your training. What's the first thing you do when you come across a combat casualty?"

You take a deep breath, combing through the files in your head. "You… you make the scene safe."

"Yes. So the only thing you can do for him right now is to pick up your rifle, dust yourself off, and push these Grimm out of the area. You need to get switched on and take the fight to them." Weiss grabs your Mark 18 sitting in the dirt beside you, and pushes it into your hands.

You take hold of it, hands wrapping around its familiar curves and weight. "I… I got it."

Weiss pats you on the shoulder, hard. "Flip the switch, rookie."


	6. Switched On...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reader sees the end of his first battle, thanks to some friendly air support from Team JNPR. Be advised that there are also some graphic scenes in this chapter- use discretion. Thanks to those who have been giving me feedback! It means so, so much.

“Flip the switch, rookie.”

Weiss lets go of you, picking Myrtenaster up again and posting over the wall. You watch her switch from being a leader to being a fighter: both of her eyes stay open as her finger comes to the trigger, firing bursts of fully automatic fire. Even as the mortars fall in the area between your line and the Grimm, she doesn’t flinch- she just shoots.

Yang is finishing swapping ammo belts when she shouts across you to Weiss. “Ice Queen, fancy calling in some air to deal with those mortar crews? We’re not getting anywhere as long as they keep bracketing us!”

“I know. I can’t find them in the treeline to mark them, though.”

Okay, flip the switch. Help find the mortar crews. You come to a knee and look over the wall. Scan the field. Just smoking Ursa and a few Grimm troops. Farther out? Treeline. As long as those crews had an opening in the leaf canopy, they could fire through it. But you can’t see anything.

That’s when you notice that the screaming has stopped. Your eye falls on the downed Atlas soldier. He’s not moving anymore. Just… still. Still as if he was sleeping. With his eyes open. Staring at you.

Focus. Remember your training. Pull your gun up, sighting down your reticle to the Grimm troops coming across the field. There’s only about a dozen that you can see. Fire again, a few more shots.

You watch the soldier you were sighting at seem to trip and fall, clutching his leg as he tries to get up. You fire again, and watch his head snap back as his whole body goes limp.

His teammate, directly behind him, is about to grab the downed soldier to pull him to safety, but before he gets there, another round from your rifle finds its mark. Square in the chest. He’s knocked back, but doesn’t fall, and you don’t see any blood spray. “They’re armored!”

Yang shakes her head. “A little late to the party on that one.”

All of a sudden, soil around the soldier you were just shooting at erupts as large rounds impact the ground. You look up, and see Ruby and Blake in Phoenix 1-1 making a strafing pass across the Grimm in the field.

Weiss’s eyes light up as she keys in her radio. “Ruby, this is Weiss. We’re getting bracketed with mortars coming from that treeline you just flew over. Do you have eyes on?”

Phoenix 1-1 spins, coming back over the same area. Blake responds. “No joy. Canopy is too thick.”

You see a flash of light streak across the sky, heading towards the helicopter. It banks, narrowly missing the collision. Yang calls to Ruby and Blake over the radio, alarm suddenly clear in her voice at the sight of more rockets. “Get out of there! We’ll handle this on our own.”

“Clearing out.” Phoenix 1-1 turns and speeds back over your line, going back into orbit over you.

Yang turns, now talking to you and Weiss. “Have Ren and Nora light up that whole fucking treeline.”

Weiss’s eyes go wide in surprise, but then narrow as she puts a hand up to wave off Yang’s words. “We don’t have authorization to fire on targets we can’t see. There could be non-combatants in there.”

You look at Weiss, then back to Yang, your lips pursed as another mortar shell hits the ground, causing you to duck. This one was much, much closer. It would only be a matter of time before the Grimm got lucky. You look up over your wall, searching desperately for a confirmation of the location of the Grimm mortars.

Your search is interrupted by the sound of Yang’s gun sending rounds into the field as more Grimm emerge from the treeline. Yang’s eyes are fixated down her sights, and they were… turning red?

Another screech of a mortar shell. You duck, hearing the shell suddenly explode _behind_ you.

A burst of adrenaline rushes through you as you look back up over the wall again, eyes now frantically searching the treeline.

Out of the corner of your eye, you spot a puff of leaves and a white streak arc through the air. There. “Weiss, there’s the mortar!” You point at the contrails left in the air by the passing of the mortar round. The shell that was just launched lands behind you again, making the ground violently shake for a moment.

Weiss loads a new round into her grenade launcher, this one tipped with red. “Here’s hoping JNPR can still lend a hand…” She presses a button on her radio once again. “Jaune, new fire mission. Target is a Grimm mortar crew northeast of our position, within the treeline. I’ll try to get smoke on it!”

You hold your breath during the seconds you wait before the reply. A sense of relief washes over you when Jaune responds. “Copy, Weiss. We can give you this one pass before we need to refuel. We’ll return afterwards. Ren is 45 seconds out.”

Weiss stands up over the wall, taking aim at the base of the mortar contrail and firing. You hear another deep thump, signaling the outbound ordnance. It begins to smoke immediately, and you see the red smoke arc into the treeline. Near perfect shot. Thick red smoke billows out from the leafy canopy. The contrast between the red smoke and green leaves is… ironically beautiful.

Ren’s calm and calculated radio call: “RWBY, Lie Ren. Vectoring approach."

Weiss responds “Cleared hot, Ren!”

“Missiles free.”

The green and black A-10 screams above your head, two rockets firing off of the rails underneath the wings. Both hit their marks at the base of the column of red smoke, with trees splintering and falling after the explosions.

You wait. And wait. You’ve counted to 60 seconds. Nothing. No more mortars.

Letting out a deep breath, Yang comes on over the radio. “Thanks for the guns, JNPR. Guess the drinks are on us tonight.”

Pyrrha replies first. “Just doing our job, RWBY. Glad to help.”

Jaune chimes in. “We just got orders to return to base. We better see you back there.”

Nora is the last one to talk. “AND in one piece!”

You chuckle, internally incredibly thankful to have friendly air cover. Without JNPR, you’d be fighting Ursa still, along with getting showered by mortars.

A blast of air from above hits you as Phoenix 1-1 flies over again. You hear the steady thump of its door guns, indicating that Ruby and Blake were actively shooting at Grimm they saw on the ground. But none that you can see- the field is clear, and from your vantage point, there are no Grimm directly in front of you.

An Atlas soldier slides in next to you, still in cover behind the wall. “Captain Schnee! Ma’am, we’ve spotted the ground convoy that’s supposed to relieve us to our rear. They’re two miles out.”

“Thank you, Sergeant. Press the attack and get to the bottom of the hill. Strongpoint there and wait for the convoy.”

“Yes, ma’am!” He turns, and waves to another soldier higher up on the hill. Before long, Atlas troops are running past you and setting up defenses at the base of the hill.

Looking at them… some of them with bloodied hands, some with bandaged wounds, almost all covered with dirt and mud, and almost all with bloodshot eyes and pale faces. Still, they obey, and follow their leadership without question. Many are looking around for teammates, desperately searching amongst those who are alive, hoping not to have to search through those who are dead.

You hear Ruby’s voice in your ear. “Freezerburn, remaining Grimm troops are pulling back deeper into the treeline. You should be clear. We can also see the ground convoy.”

Relaxing, you hear Weiss’s reply. “Understood. We’ll coordinate with Atlas and help stabilize the wounded.”

“Everyone alright down there? Things looked pretty bad.”

Weiss looks over at you, locking eyes for a second before you look away. “Ruby… Atlas lost a lot of soldiers. Good soldiers.” She lets out a sort of sigh. “The team is fine. Nothing physical that won’t heal.”

Weiss’s words echo in your mind, almost as if there’s a deeper meaning there. _The team is fine. Nothing physical that won’t heal._ What’s that supposed to mean?

You shake your head, coming back to reality. You stand, listening for any more gunfire. You can hear rifles in the distance, but the immediate area is clear. You mount the wall, slinging your rifle over you back and running down to the soldier whose screams haunted you minutes earlier. You take in a breath and hold your gag reflex when you see what that mortar round did to the men _you_ sent over the wall.

Body parts. Bits of an arm to your left, a foot directly in front of you, pieces of lung, intestine, and strips of skin surrounding you. Like… someone was pushed through a meat grinder. At least two were killed instantly and didn’t have to suffer. The last one… you see his injuries. The fatal one is his arm- a piece of shrapnel cut through most of the meat on the underside, high up close to the shoulder. Too high for a tourniquet, too high to save his own life. He bled out from that spot. But it’s not the only injury. You see metal fragments through his legs, one in his jaw. It… it was a painful death for him. You take a knee, and reach up to close his eyes. Your hand is shaking.

You feel a hand on your shoulder. “It’s not up to you. It’s just... chaos.” It’s Weiss’s voice, much softer and much more… comforting than when she said it during the fight. She squeezes your shoulder before turning around and walking down the hill towards the sergeant who is now the commander of Marshal Company.

You purse your lips, standing up after closing the dead soldier’s eyes. Behind you, you hear the sound of loud diesel engines and upon turning, you see about half a dozen military trucks and Humvees navigating the boulder field and coming down the hill. Each one bears the Atlas military crest. Some are slightly shot up, with light peeking through the bullet holes. They all pass you, one of the gunners giving you a rigid salute upon seeing your 44th SOD patch. They’re not supposed to salute you… and most of them have probably seen more combat than you have.

Phoenix 1-1 circles again, and lands behind the Atlesian vehicles once they set up a perimeter in the field. You walk with Yang down to the field, finding Ruby and Weiss talking to another lieutenant that just stepped out of one of the trucks.

“We’ll hold this sector and wait for orders from Command, Captain. Both battalions should be secure knowing that their flanks are covered.”

“Good. Take care of Marshal Company. They’ve been through hell today.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

The sergeant chimes in next to him. “Captain Schnee… thanks for the help today. You and your air saved our asses. Hopefully we can repay that debt someday.”

She nods, the ever-so-slight upturn of a smile coming across her lips. “Take it easy, Sergeant. You’ll see us again.”

With that, Ruby and Weiss turn back towards the helicopter. Yang walks by your side, her hair billowing in the downblast of the bird’s rotors. Blake offers a hand to help you in when you get there, and you take it, the black-haired girl hauling you up before taking her usual seat beside Yang. The rotors begin to spin up to lift off.

 

Ruby: "One up."

Weiss: "Two up."

Blake: "Three up."

Yang: "Four up."

You: "Five up."


	7. Switching Off

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A bit longer chapter, no action this time (Sorry...). Reader "decompresses" from first combat experience with the team. This chapter was... not the easiest to write. But I hope you enjoy it! Let me know what you think.

Blake stays on your door gun, letting you take a seat by Weiss on the opposite side of the helicopter. You let your legs dangle out, dropping your gun to be across your lap as the scenery rolls by. Your heart is still beating fast from the adrenaline, but you can feel it wearing off as you have time to just sit… and think.

The wooded and hilly areas beneath your feet fade to the grassy plains that surround Beacon Field. The gentle rocking and bumping of the Pave Hawk is oddly soothing. If you weren’t sitting out of the side of it, it could almost put you to sleep.

You blink a few times, noting how the sun is still pretty high in the sky. Glancing at your watch, it’s 1549. That whole excursion with the Grimm and Atlas lasted for 3 hours, round trip. And yet it felt like the whole day.

You look down at your hands. Your gloves are brown and crusted with a mixture of dirt and dried blood. Over the scent of the helicopter’s aviation exhaust, you smell, well, yourself. Sweat and grime, mixed with the oddly pleasing scent of burnt gunpowder. The breath you just took through your nostrils releases slowly, with you closing your eyes for a moment.

“That’s always such a welcome sight.” You open them, to see Weiss pointing at Beacon, which just appeared on the horizon. Squinting your eyes, you see four jets in the pattern, circling the airfield while getting clearance to land. Could be JNPR, but they’re still too far away to tell.

“I could get used to it…” You reply to Weiss as Beacon gets bigger and bigger in your field of view.

Roughly 15 minutes later, the helicopter’s wheels touch down in the center of the airfield, and you step off, your feet thankful to be on solid, safe ground once again. As the helicopter’s rotors spin down, you grab gear from different compartments in Phoenix 1-1, and lug them back to the team’s hangar. It’s not that long of a walk, and your tired body thanks you for it. Setting everything back down near the gear table, you carry yourself back to the area you’ve made your own.

First, you unsling your rifle and clear it, leaning it against the wall. You’ll have to clean it at some point, but… that can wait. You undo all of the straps on your vest, easing it off and over your head, incredibly grateful that the weight of the plates and equipment is off of your shoulders. Then, gloves. You rip them off quickly, tossing them down next to your gear bag. They would need to be washed. Hell, EVERYTHING would need to be washed. You unzip your top, peeling it off and loving the familiar rush of coolness that came with doing so.

“Hey, rookie, how do you like your steak?” Yang calls from across the hangar.

“What?” The question confuses you, especially since your mind is absorbed by removing your gear and debriefing the mission.

“I’m firing up the grill for tonight. How do you like your steak? I’ve got a Ribeye with your name on it.” Yang is just finishing getting out of her loadout, pulling off her uniform and throwing on a cook’s apron.

“Uh… medium rare, if you can manage. Shouldn’t… we be debriefing or something?”

About to step into the shower room with a red robe on, Ruby calls to you. “We will. Over dinner, and as a team. There’s a lot to talk about.”

You nod, and kinda shrug, pulling the rest of what you had on off and changing into a pair of loose gym shorts. You grab a towel, and all the soap/shampoo you need before walking into the shower room. Ruby is already in there, creating a hot steam that blurs your reflection in all of the mirrors. You wipe away the moisture and peek at yourself, not really recognizing the face looking back at you. It’s stained with dirt and a few scratches, and still glistening with sweat.

You sigh, strip down, and toss your clothes onto the shower bench, stepping into the shower dividers and turning the hot water on. During initial training you only took cold showers, and some during specialist training. Today, the almost-scalding water was very, very welcome, opening your pores and rinsing you clean of the grime covering your entire body. It mixes into a reddish-brown stream beneath your feet, fading clearer and clearer as you stand in it.

Once again, you look down at your hands, noting how they’re back to your own hands and forearms, now clean and clear of the dirt and blood that covered them. You’re also not shaking anymore, steady and cool.

Enough of that. You lather yourself up, rinse off, and run shampoo through your hair, noting its coarseness. Rinse that out, stand in the water for a second or two more, then turn it off and walk out. Towel yourself off, fix anything that’s wrong with your hair, and throw your gym shorts back on.

When you walk back out, Ruby is already in civilian clothes. Long boots, tight black pants, a black shirt, and a red, hooded jacket. Even though you only walked in just yesterday, seeing her out of uniform and in civilian is… weird. Odd. Guess you’ve never imagined huntresses out of their military setting.

So… civilian clothing it is. You dig through the luggage you brought with you, going to the bottom to find your outfit for the evening.

Pulling everything on, you sit back down on the edge of your cot. You hear laughing. A bubbly girl’s voice that you recognize from… somewhere. It’s not any of RWBY. You look out across the flightline and see four figures walking towards the hangar, with one of those figures much more… bouncy than the rest.

Getting closer, you see that they’re all in green flight suits, each with different color name tapes. A young man with shorter blonde hair, a taller girl with long, red hair, another man with black hair and a green streak, and the final one a girl with a crop of ginger and a pink nametape.

The red-haired one shakes her head at something, smiling and waving when Ruby sees her. “Hello again!”

“Hey, Pyrrha!” Ruby waves back, walking over to what you now know to be JNPR.

You stand up. “Thanks for the air earlier today. The guys on the ground were pretty excited when you showed up.”

The blonde haired one, Jaune, steps up to you. “I don’t believe we’ve met, you’re the new guy, right?”

“Yeah.”

Nora’s eyes light up. “Ooo…. So what’d you think? Big explosions, lots of shooting, fun, right?!”

You’re taken back by the question, not really sure how to respond. You hadn’t actually thought too hard about the specifics of it all yet.

“Nora… leave him be.” Ren grabs her by the folds of her flight suit and pulls her back.

Pyrrha speaks up. “We just wanted to stop by on our way back to the room and make sure everyone”

Yang, wearing an apron and smelling of barbecue smoke, comes out of the back. “We were gonna debrief over steak. You wanna stay and have a few beers?”

Jaune shakes his head. “We’ve got a mission early tomorrow morning, but tomorrow night, we planned on hitting up the Crow Bar. RWBY’s invited.”

“And SOMEBODY said they owe us a round….” Nora adds on.

Ruby shrugs, still smiling. “We’ve got the next two days free of training and we’re not on-call. We’ll join you.”

Pyrrha nods. “Sounds good. Have a good night, everyone. Nice to meet you, Y/N.”

You’re surprised she knows your name, given that you haven’t said it yet and that you’re not in uniform. Ruby waves again as they leave.

“Steaks coming off in 5!” Yang shouts from behind the hangar.

Smelling the grill smoke… it reminds you that you haven’t eaten since breakfast, and a light breakfast at that. The pangs of hunger set in suddenly, making you eager to get a bite of that ribeye Yang talked about.

You walk out the backdoor of the hanger to see a sort of patio. You admire the “homey” nature of the whole hangar, something that was originally designed to house an airplane, not a team of soldiers. The patio area has a round table with five chairs surrounding it, and an umbrella shielding the whole area from the afternoon sun. Yang is facing a full-size charcoal grill, using tongs to gingerly caress a hodgepodge of steaks, carrots, mushrooms, and corn-on-the-cob. There’s also a salmon on for Blake. It all smells absolutely delicious.

“Beers are in the fridge, if you want any.” Blake walks past you, holding a glass bottle of amber liquid. “Weiss also has some wine.” She tosses an unopened can to Yang, and when Yang catches it, you see that it’s a sort of Strawberry Sunrise mix in a can.

“The Atlas Cabernet is off limits!” Weiss calls from her seat.

You go back to the fridge, looking through the selection of beer at your disposal. All common Vale brands- Baker’s Brew, Dust Draft, Dust Draft Lite, Amber Ale, Torchwick Brewery… There are a few more in the back, but you grab a Torchwick Brewery bottle and pop the top off. Beads of cold water start to condensate as you head outside and grab a seat next to Ruby and Weiss at the table.

Yang pulls everything off of the grill, transferring it to a very large plate before setting it down on the table. She takes the apron off and tosses it over the back of the chair before taking her seat next to Blake. “Salmon for Blake, Ribeyes for Ruby and Y/N, and top sirloins for yours truly and Ice Queen.”

“Ugh.” Weiss rolls her eyes before sipping on the glass of Cabernet she poured for herself.

You don’t waste any time in heaping one the ribeye closest to you onto your plate, along with some of the other vegetables that Yang had on the grill. The girls do the same, Blake staring eagerly at the salmon. Guess the Faunus really loves seafood.

“Real quick, before everyone gorges themselves…” Ruby pipes up. “To Y/N living through his first mission.” She raises her bottle, and the other three follow, looking at you while you do the same.

“Thanks, everyone…” You nod with a smile, and bring the bottle to your lips, knocking back a swig. The mouthful of alcohol goes down easy. Funny how cold beer out of a glass bottle quenches thirst better than ice water.

Knife and fork in hand, you clean your plate in record time. Honestly, it’s surprising how little you talk and how much you eat. By the time you set your knife and fork down, the girls are only halfway, if that. Feeling full, you lean back in your chair and take another swig of the amber ambrosia in your hand.

“Damn. Someone was hungry.” Yang comments.

Ruby looks over at you, swallowing a bite. “Since you’re the first one done, you get to debrief first. Walk us through it all. Start to finish. Don’t spare us the details. We have all evening.”

You blink, scrolling backwards as to the events of the day in your head. “Well, the first contact we had was Yang’s sighting of the smoke rolling off of the Ursa that Atlas had destroyed. We circled the Atlas position, and I got the door gun up and rolling, lobbing rounds at Grimm while Weiss requested air support. We got that air support, and Ruby told Yang, Weiss, and I to get on the ground to help Atlas out in a more direct way. We rolled out of the helicopter on top of the hill, and fought our way down to Atlas troops. The first soldier we talked to had taken a round to the plate, and directed us to the commanding officer.”

“When did you first take fire?” Ruby asks, making mental notes in her head.

“Just before we dismounted Phoenix 1-1.”

“No, when did YOU first take fire?”

You sort through the files in your mind. “Sprinting from cover to cover. A round hit the ground in front of me.”

Ruby nods. “Continue.”

“We were briefed by the officer as to the situation. They had taken many casualties, largely due to the lack of intel on the tank column occupying their AO. Their stronghold was a dry creek bed that served as a makeshift trench. JNPR came on scene as we finished our interaction with the officer. JNPR put fire on the tanks in the field, and Atlas pressed the attack. The officer was killed in the push. I made it down the hill with Weiss, using my weapon to suppress and eliminate Grimm along the way. I made it down to the frontmost Atlas soldiers, and ordered Yang to suppress while they moved farther. That’s when we started getting hit by mortars.”

“Stop. How many Grimm soldiers did you eliminate in that push?”

“I… I don’t know.” That moment comes as a bit of a blur in your head. “One, I think? I shot at multiple, but… think I only took one down…”

Weiss puts her fork down, and confidently chimes in. “I can confirm two.”

You comb through the files in your head once again, not remembering the second kill. “I guess so…”

Ruby gently urges you on. “Keep going.”

“JNPR came back on scene when I spotted the contrails of the mortar through the leaf canopy. Weiss popped a smoke round into the canopy, and Ren hit it with two missiles. That neutralized the mortar, and the ground convoy arrived soon after that. We met up with you and Blake when the helicopter landed in the field, debriefed the sergeant in charge of the Atlas company, then took off to return to base.”

Ruby looks at you for a long moment, silently processing your account. Yang is sitting back, about to crack open her second Sunrise. Weiss shakes her glass in a circular motion, watching the legs of fluid form on the edges as she does so. Blake is still slicing and taking bites of her salmon, her amber eyes glancing up at you.

Weiss is the first one to speak after that. “Y/N, go through it again. More detail. Try to remember it clearly. You missed a few things.”

You look down at the bottle of beer in your hands, and go to take another swig. Ruby catches your arm, gently nudging you to put it down.

You let out a breath, going through the whole mission in your head again, wondering what you missed. “I’m… not sure what I missed.”

Weiss replies. “Think about the two men you killed in the push down to the bottom of the hill, before the mortars.”

“I...” You close your eyes for a second, recalling the realization that you hadn’t fired a shot, and the process that went through your mind as you pulled the trigger. “I realized that I hadn’t fired a shot, and I posted up over the rock I was using as cover. I saw a Grimm soldier aiming at one of ours. I shot at him, and my first one missed. I recentered and shot a few more times, and hit him.”

Yang is the first one to ask the question, her voice much lower and more solemn than normal, hushing the conversation. “What was it like?”

“What do you mean?”

“Killing your first man.”

“I guess… I don’t really feel anything over it. He was a target.”

“Where did you hit him?”

You pause, that moment coming back to you as a blur, and not a true memory. You shake your head. “I… don’t remember.”

Weiss lowers her head. “You hit him in the neck. Do you remember that?”

Your eyes widen. “Yes. His hand shot up to try and stop the arterial blood that spurted out from his neck…”

“Do you also remember the headshot on the guy in the ditch?”

“I… thought your grenade launcher round killed him?”

Weiss shakes her head. “Your rifle round went clean through his helmet.”

That’s not how you remember it. “His helmet flew off and he ducked again… I… thought…”

You look down at your hands, noting them starting to slightly shake like they did during combat.

Weiss takes a sip of her wine, then sets it down on the table. “What about the Atlas soldier who got hit by the mortar?”

Ruby cocks her head at you, with you still looking down at your hands as you respond. “Yang and I got down to three soldiers, and told them we’d provide suppression as they moved up. We covered them as best we could…”

Yang nods, and adds “My weapon also malfunctioned, do you remember that?”

Getting slightly frustrated and irritable, you look up, your eyes glancing between all of them. “Why do you keep asking me if I remember stuff?”

“In stressful situations, the brain will often fill in different memories or block them out completely. Your debrief left out a lot of things. We just… want to make sure you’re okay.” Ruby replies.

You purse your lips, anger slowing down a bit as you continue. “One of the soldiers advanced farther than he should have. That’s when a mortar rounded landed and… obliterated the other two. The one who advanced further was wounded… in the arm….” The memories come back in a flash, remembering his screams and pleas for help. They hauntingly echo in your mind, the gushing crimson filling your mental picture once again.

“Y/N… you’re shaking.” Weiss is looking down at your hands, as are you.

The scene plays over and over again in your head. You suddenly stand up, knocking the chair over backwards and causing all four girls to jump back a bit. You shake your head, hard, trying to get the repeating image of the soldier dying out of your mind. “I… can’t…”

You turn around and push through the door to the hangar, slamming it behind you as you hear Ruby call out to you. “Y/N!”

The hangar is dark, only serving to isolate you more. You walk/amble your way over to your things, sitting down on your cot and burying your face in your hands. The image is still there, forcing you to breath harder.

_You didn’t save him. You could have, but you didn’t._

_Why?_

“Hey.” You feel Weiss’s hand on your knee.

“What do you _want?_ ”

“Look at me?”

You pull your face away from your hands, letting out a long, and somewhat shaky breath. Weiss is kneeling in front of you, her eyes concerned. She keeps her distance, pulling her hand away from your knee when you look down at her.

“Y/N… everyone is gonna get demons that haunt them from combat. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t have any.”

“I could’ve saved him…”

“No, you couldn’t. You’d be in a hospital fighting for your life, and he’d be dead anyway.”

The term ‘dead’ fills your mind with images of Lieutenant Vance, the top of her head taken off, as well as the piercing yet blank eyes of the soldier you couldn’t save. “You…. Don’t…. UNDERSTAND!”

Weiss looks down for a second, then reaches into her pocket and pulls out her phone, separating the cover from the phone itself and pulling out a small, folded piece of paper. She unfolds it, showing it to you. It’s a small family of 5 at something that appears to be some sort of extended family gathering. “I don’t suppose you recognize any of them?”

Your eyes run over the paper, and you shake your head. “No...”

“July 18th. This past year. You won’t read about it in records because there aren’t any. The White Fang… you know them? They had taken a number of families in some sort of demonstration. Since it was still Vale territory and not a military field, local authorities got involved but me and Ruby were called in to support them.” She looks down at the paper, letting out a heavy breath before folding it back up and putting it back into her case. “They… lined the family up, kids too, in some street. We were set up 200 yards away, with me spotting for Ruby. Clear shots. There were three of them.”

“What happened?”

Weiss looks up at you, slightly frustrated at the thought and her brow furrowed. “I watched them execute that family. Every. Last. One. And they weren’t gentle. You… don’t go through that without it changing you. I was looking through my scope at the whole thing as Ruby repositioned. We could’ve fired at any time, but... we never got the authorization to. Ruby didn’t see any of it… but I watched each of them die.” She shakes her head. “The girls will tell you that I woke up in a cold sweat for about a week after that. I had nightmares about looking through the scope and seeing them killed in the same way that innocent family were.

“How… how’d you stop them?”

She shrugs at the question. “I don’t think I ever did. But I have the team to lean on.” A pause. “And so do you.” She stands up, offering her hand to help you up. You look down at your own. They’re still shaking, but you look up and take hers. She hauls you to your feet. “C’mon.” She leads the way back out to the patio area, and you take a seat, a little worried about the other three girls’ reactions.

Ruby puts her hand on your shoulder. “Y/N, the reason we go through the mission again, _as a team_ , is to help eachother work out the tough calls we had to make and the stressful situations we were in. Everyone you see here has been in your situation.”

Weiss turns to face you a bit more. “Or more than one. We’re here for you, on and off the battlefield. It’s our job to make sure that you’re fit to fight. Your job is to flip the switch every time we head out to the front, whether its fighting Grimm soldiers, stopping terrorists, or pulling friends out of crashed planes.”

Blake chimes in. “You’re part of RWBY now. Don’t forget that.”

“Speaking of which… here.” Yang pulls a new set of dog tags out of her pocket and slides them across the table. You grab them, looking down at them in your hands, which aren’t shaking anymore. They read like normal tags, except for one thing: where your service number normally goes, it says “ET-7929 RWBY.” A smile tugs at your lips.

Ruby catches your attention one more time. “There’s one more order of business. We’ve decided on your callsign.”

“What’s that?”

Weiss is the one to respond to the question as she pulls a freshly printed nametape out of her pocket.

“Switch.”


	8. Time Off

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here's another chapter! We get to know the members of ET-7929 a bit more. To everyone who gave me feedback, thank you SO MUCH!!! You all rock, and please keep it coming! Also... super shout out to flagbearer-or-scouts who helped big-time with this chapter. Go check out what she has up!

“Switch.”

It’s… not a bad callsign. And it fits. You brush your thumb over the new nametape in your hands. It’s simple, made of leather- black background, white letters, with a simplified Vale crest above your name.

_Switch_

_ET-7929 RWBY_

A smile tugs at the corner of your lips as you look back up at your team. “I don’t know what to say.”

Blake nods. “RWBY is a very important asset in this war, Y/N. We were impressed by what you did today.”

Opening her second Sunrise, Yang grins at you. “You’ll get many more chances to do that.... soon.”

Ruby shakes her head again. “Back to the mission, guys. Weiss, you’re up for debrief.”

…

Weiss leans back in her chair and yawns, while Ruby finishes up her own perspective on the mission. You glance at your watch, the numbers reading 2108. You blink a bit of tiredness out of your eyes.

“Well, that’s a wrap.” Yang leans forward on the table, three empty Sunrises in front of her.

Weiss nods. “It won’t be a bad report to write. But not tonight.”

“Tired?” Yang nudges her.

Weiss blinks her eyes hard after a moment. “It’s been a long day.”

Blake chimes in, reaching forward across her table and straightening her arms and fingers in a sort of stretch. “Even though it’s not that late, I may hit the rack, too.”

Ruby slides her chair back and starts getting up. “Then we’ll call it an early night.” She starts reaching for plates and empty glasses, prompting you to do the same. The gentle clank of beer bottles and china commences, the clean-up going relatively smooth. At one point, you head back out to the patio, looking for anything else to clean up. There’s nothing, but you take a moment to look up at the sky. The dark nature of the base makes the stars stand out more than usual. Remnant’s broken moon casts a lucid glow across the airfield, silhouettes of fighter jets and helicopters dotting the view out of the corner of your eye.

“Anything else out here?” You turn and see Weiss looking through the door at the table. The way she’s leaning highlights something you didn’t notice before- her white hair is down, out of the high ponytail she normally kept it in. A ponytail which, by the book, was her only delineation from regulations.

“Nope. We’re all good.”

She nods and turns to head back in to the hangar, pausing and looking back at you. “Stars?” She steps out of the doorway, coming over to you.

“Yeah.”

“They’re pretty great out on the base when all of the lights are out.” Weiss stands beside you, looking up.

“I wouldn’t disagree. Especially with the moon.” You look to your side and see the rows of hangars housing military jets and vehicles, each strangely distorted by the night. “Hey… thanks for what you said earlier. Out in the field.”

Weiss slightly turns her head, eyes moving to look at you then back up at the stars. “I told you that if you got any of my team killed, you’d regret it.”  She crosses her arms, looking back at the ground. “And whether or not it was my decision… you’re a part of my team, and Atlas needed our help.”

“You really care about Atlas, don’t you?”

She shrugs, arms still crossed and looking at the ground. “It’s where I’m from.”

You step forward and take a seat in one of the patio chairs, sliding one out for her to do the same. She doesn’t  take it. “Your file said that you joined and commissioned in light of family officer history, and yet you relinquish your rank for Ruby to be in charge.  You’re here with the 44th at Beacon Field in Vale, but the amount of intensity you brought to the fight today tells me that you’re more tied to Atlas.”

Weiss shoots a glare at you, her eyes narrowing a bit and taking a step back. “Y/N… you’re on my team, so I suppose you deserve to know. But don’t dig any deeper.” She closes her eyes and lets out a long breath. “I know you’ve heard of the Schnee family before. Big military names, and a big name in the defense contracting industry. This war, as well as our interactions with the insurgent White Fang, has… not been good. It’s been bloody. And for as long as I can remember, I have lost loved ones to this damn thing. The only close family that I have left is my sister and my father.” Uncrossing her arms and opening her eyes, she continues. “It’s always been my duty to take up arms for Atlas and fight. But not for my family name, or the money, or any reason better than the next guy. All of those soldiers we got out today have people back home. People who sit by phones and mailboxes and anxiously wait for _anything_. Nobody should have to see the amount of loss that I have.”

You pause, hesitating for a moment before words slip out of your mouth. “Weiss… I… know what that’s like… I’m so sorry…”

“Stop. I don’t need your sympathy. I need your medical training, your hands, and your weapons if we’re going to make a difference in this war. Rest up tomorrow. Get fit to fight. And when the bullets start flying, flip the switch and do the job you’re trained to do.”

You sit there, speechless and Weiss turns and heads back into the hangar. You stay where you are, thinking and looking up at the stars again. Your attention falls back to the nametape in your pocket. You’ve been with RWBY for a single day, and you’ve already been in combat. You’ve already seen an air strike up close. Already been shot at, by guns and mortars and tanks. You’ve seen people from both sides die, some by your hands. And now, you’re a huntsman. _Switch._

You stand, walking back through the door of the hangar. It’s time to get some sleep- your is body telling you how exhausted you are with every step. You grab hygiene gear from your luggage, and start your pre-bed routine. Sometimes you had to forego this in training, so… you get it in where you can now.

You finish, and change into sleepwear. Laying (more like flopping) down onto your cot, darkness quickly consumes you and welcomes you to sleep.

…

You awake to sunlight hitting you in the face and heating up your makeshift sheets. You look at your watch.0757. You still have the full day ahead of you.

You sit up, slipping your sleepwear off and grabbing uniform pants and your boots. It’s your normal routine every morning when you wake up. You start sliding them on when you see the numbers on your watch again and remember that today is an off-day for you. You toss the pants and boots back over to your gear bag and pull on a set of civilian clothes instead. Much more comfortable.

The hangar is lit, partially due to the overhead lights and partially due to the door windows letting sunlight in. You scan the hangar, seeing nobody at the moment. The whole team couldn’t be gone, without you…?

You hear something that sounds like paper rustling. Like someone turning the page of a book. It’s above you… You look up, and see Blake hanging from the rafters in a hammock, yet another book across her lap.

“Blake?”

“Yeah?” Her eyes stay fixed on her pages, scrolling through the lines of words. She reaches a hand up to pull an earbud out of her ear.

“How’d you get up there?”

“I’m a Cat-Faunus. Climbing is an inherent ability.”

You nod. It makes sense. “Where’s everyone else?”

“Weiss decided she wanted to get back in the cockpit for a bit, so she’s flying with a team that’s going to rendezvous with some officers coming in. Ruby is at a briefing with Ozpin. Yang is out back working on Bumblebee.”

“Bumblebee?”

“Her motorcycle.”

“Oh.” That’s.. not that surprising. You look up at Blake, noticing the earbud hanging out of one of her ears. “What are you listening to?”

Her eyes come off of the book as she turns to sit sideways in the hammock and look down at you. “I don’t think you’d know it.”

“At least give me a genre.”

“Classic rock.”

A smile crosses your lips. “You like Guns ‘n Roses at all?”

“Yeah, actually. They’re pretty good. ‘Welcome to the Jungle’ was practically the theme song of the outfit I ran around with before I came to RWBY.” Her eyes drop back down to her book, pursing her lips. “Switch, I… have one more chapter to finish…”

You sense Blake’s reluctance to talk about it and wave a hand. “Enjoy the rest of your book, Blake.”

You take a step, suddenly noticing the pangs of hunger that shoot up through you. _Breakfast._ You make a beeline for the kitchen area,  grabbing the handle of the fridge and nearly ripping it open. You grab a cart of eggs, with some already gone, a gallon milk jug about half full, an opened package of bacon, butter…

“Weiss is gonna kill you if you eat any of her eggs.” Yang is suddenly beside you, streaks of grease covering her face, her hands and about half of her forearms black from something that smells like oil.

“These eggs?” You look down to the eggs, not seeing anything special about them.

“Yeah. She eats them every morning.”

“I’m hungry. I’ll take my chances.”

“Suit yourself.” Yang takes a yellow water bottle out of the fridge, opening it and smearing it with grease in the process. It’s almost comical how half of the water doesn’t even make it to her mouth while she downs it- some of it dripping down to her shirt and brown leather jacket. She lets out a loud, heavy breath when she finally pulls it away from her lips.

“Thirsty?”

“Something about Bumblebee always makes me thirsty.”

“It looks like it also makes you wet.”

Yang looks down, a bit of a chuckle as she grins back up at you. “In more ways than one.”

You cock an eyebrow and shake your head, looking down to the mound of breakfast supplies in your hands.

“I like you, Y/N. Same sense of humor.” Yang refills the water bottle and tosses it back into the fridge, heading back out to her motorcycle.

Okay… breakfast time. You turn the stove on, quickly and almost mathematically preparing a plate of eggs, bacon, and buttered toast. You set the plate on the sort of table where you first ‘met’ Weiss, and put everything away. You find a fork, and demolish the plate of eggs quicker than you did the steak from last night. You sit back in your chair once you finish your meal, letting out a gentle sigh and relaxing a bit. It’s good to have a day off.

A few moments later, after the food settles in your stomach, you pick up your plate and give it a quick scrub and a rinse before racking it to dry. Blake still seems engrossed in her book… Better not to bother her. Besides, Yang’s working on a motorcycle. What’s not to love about that?

You push out the rear hangar door, looking to your left to find a sort of extension to the hangar. You saw the wall there last night, but didn’t bother to see what it was. It’s a garage with two doors. It’s empty save for a black sport sedan and a sleek, yellow race bike. Yang is at a work bench at the rear of the garage, turning a mechanical piece of equipment over in her greasy hands. Bumblebee is up on a bike stand, oil dripping out of a drain hole at the bottom of the engine.

“So… what got you into bikes?”

Yang sets the part down on the bench, her brow furrowed in confusion as she looks down at it. “Oh, I just think they’re cool. And fast.”

You step up beside her, now identifying the part as a throttle body. “Something wrong?”

“She’s been loading up a lot. And my idle is…. Finicky.”

“Can I take a look?”

Yang shrugs, and slides it over to you. You pick it up, turning it over in your hands like she was a moment ago. You move different things on it, look at it from different angles. You’ve been around cars and motorcycles enough. Then it hits you.

“Butterfly is actually loose. Or… cracked, maybe. Did… you take this thing on a jump or something?”

Yang grins. “Uh, yeah. It was fun.”

“That’ll do it. Bumblebee will run a lot better if you fix or replace the butterfly.”

“Thank ya, Switch.”

“No probl-“ You’re interrupted by the sound of helicopters flying over. It’s not an unusual sound, but the sheer volume and number is. You and Yang step out from the garage, seeing at least a dozen helicopters of different sizes and insignia enter the airfield pattern.

“Well, looks like Weiss is back. And…” Yang points to a whitewashed helicopter in the middle of the pack, painted with Atlas markings. “That may be Ironwood.” She lowers her voice, almost under her breath. “Why the hell is he here?”

“Come on. Let’s help Weiss when she gets off the helo.”

Yang waves you off. “Nah. I’ll be in here. I’ve got a bike to fix.”

You let out a chuckle. “Alright. See ya later, firecracker.” A second later, you duck and dodge an incoming roll of duct tape.

“You don’t get to call me that yet, Switch.”

 


	9. Follow You Anywhere

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Super special thank-you to all of you who have given me comments and feedback! It means the world, and is the real reason I pushed this chapter out so quick! Special shout-out to flagbearer-or-scouts for all of her help on this chapter.
> 
> In addition, all of the military equipment I list in this chapter is real, and being used in modern times. If you want a quick little visualization, search it online!

You stand at the main door of the hangar, arms crossed, watching as a CH-47 Chinook painted white with an Atlas tailflash descends and sets down on the tarmac of the airfield. A splattering of other helicopters, a mismatch of Vale and Atlas, circle the airfield and land at safe distances away from the central helicopter. Still, the Chinook is in the center of the hodgepodge of choppers. You see Pave Hawks, Venoms, more Chinooks, and two new Ospreys. Above you, two Apaches circle the airfield but not in the pattern.

“Wow. Ironwood sure knows how to make an entrance.” Blake speaks up behind you, down out of her hammock.

“General Ironwood? From Atlas?”

Blake nods. “That’s him.”

You turn your attention back to the white Chinook as it lowers its rear door. About a half dozen Atlas soldiers clad in the same uniforms as the troops you remember from yesterday, walk out the back, fully armed. Following, in an immaculately white military uniform adorned with silver accoutrements, is an older man, black hair with a touch of gray around the edges. Glittering stars flow around the man’s shoulder boards, signifying the rank of a general, but your somewhat limited knowledge of the higher Atlas ranks leaves you wondering what level of general. Weiss would probably know.

Speak (or think) of the Ice Queen, and she shall appear. Out of the corner of your eye, you catch sight of the white-haired huntress dismounting one of the Pave Hawks painted with Vale markings. Not dressed in her usual battle gear, she grabs a green flight bag and hefts it over her shoulder, walking quickly back to the hangar. The green flight bag matches her green flight suit with rolled sleeves and long nomex gloves.

“Feel good to be back in the cockpit?” You ask over the sound of rotors spinning down as Weiss passes you in the hangar.

“It would, if I didn’t fail half of the maneuvers on the qualification card!” Weiss angrily tosses her flight bag onto the desk, causing stacks of papers to spill over. She yanks the chair out and sits down hard, causing the chair to depress and sigh under the sudden weight.

“What happened?”

“I flew like a rookie! I have countless hours in the Pave Hawk but flew like it was my first day. It’s frustrating.”

“You’re just rusty. You have to get back on the horse.”

Weiss slams her hand down on the table, with a sudden glare at you. “I don’t need a pep talk.”

Blake turns her head at the sound of Weiss slamming the table. “Weiss… Switch is just trying to help.”

“Well, he’s not!”

You put your hands up in surrender. “Sorry.”

Weiss closes her eyes and shakes her head. “Just… go clean your rifle or something.”

You back away, heading over to your area and sitting down on the cot. Cleaning your rifle actually isn’t a bad idea- you still haven’t cleaned it from yesterday. You reach out for it, with it still leaning against the wall, where you left it. “Come here, buddy.” Its weight and curves are very familiar to you by now, your hands gripping it like the first time seeing a sweetheart in months.

You stand, grabbing Solution in its holster and walking over to Ruby’s weapon bench. You lay a soft mat out, placing both weapons on it and systematically breaking both of them down like you were trained. Funny how repetition and sleep deprivation burns a process into your brain.

Easy. Press the pin out of the lower receiver, tilt the upper away from the lower. Slide the bolt release out with the charging handle. Disassemble bolt carrier group into its parts. Check for damage. Check for debris. Clean as necessary.

You don a set of latex gloves to keep your hands clean and protected from solvents, and get to work. Using a multitude of brushes, cotton swabs, cloth patches, and polishers, you work the grit and burned gunpowder out of the internal parts of your rifle. It’s tedious, but oddly… soothing. The mechanical simplicity of cleaning a weapon is relaxing for your mind.

“SWITCH!”

Your concentration is broken by Weiss’s shout.

“WHO THE HELL GAVE YOU PERMISSION TO EAT MY FOOD?” Weiss throws the empty egg carton at you.

It bounces off of you as you throw your hands up. “Thought it was communal. I was hungry and wanted a good breakfast…” That’s… sorta a lie. Yang _did_ tell you that those were Weiss’s eggs.

“Ask next time!” Weiss turns and throws herself into her desk chair again. “This day keeps getting worse.”

“I’m sorry, Weiss.”

“I’m sure you are.” Weiss doesn’t even look at you with her reply.

You let out a breath, and turn your attention back to your Mk 18, disassembled on the workbench in front of you.

Okay, refocus. Flush everything with solvent. Lightly lube specific parts with oil. Carefully reassemble the bolt carrier group, firing pin locked in. Ready for action. Slap the bolt group back into the upper receiver, close the two halves, and resecure the pin. Function check. Pull the charging handle back, pull trigger. Repeat through the whole cycle of semi and full automatic. Then, make the weapon rack-safe. Switch to semi, pull trigger, bolt depressed forward. Good to go.

You peel the gloves off and toss them into a trash can at the end of the bench. Your gaze once again falls to the black and tan Mark 18 at your fingertips. Unnamed. In a roundabout sort of way…. It saved your life. It deserves a name.

Your callsign is Switch. Maybe something to do with that.

Killswitch?

Master Switch? Nah. Maybe not something to do with your callsign….

Something to do with the last mission?

What about the jets that gave you air support? Jets like Pyrrha and Jaune’s use afterburner.

Afterburner? Maybe something to do with fire?

Nova? Supernova?

Wait. You recall learning about an ancient battle at Thermopylae, where a smaller force with superior firepower and terrain defeated a significantly larger force…

Thermopylae? What if you shortened it to Thermo?

Thermo.

“Thermo.” You say quietly, picking up the rifle in your hands again. “I’ll call you Thermo.”

Putting the cleaning supplies away, you place Thermo against the wall again in its rightful place. Solution and its holster goes on your hip, weight shifting your gait a bit but not uncomfortably. That’s the problem with 1911s… their full metal design is a bit heavy and bulky, but that only improves accuracy. Besides… Solution is highly modified and customized. Built just for you, to fit your hands with and without gloves.

“RWBY, rally up outside!” Ruby’s command voice cuts through the air and breaks into your thoughts.

“Roger.” Weiss calls from her desk. Blake hops down from her rafter-hammock, and you stand to walk over and outside to the chairs you sat in with the team last night.

There’s a rough map of Remnant on the table, with key strategic locations such as Beacon Field drawn on it. Papers decorate the table around Ruby, all signed as command orders. The team is all there, even Yang, still covered in motorcycle oil.

“When’d you get back, sis?” Yang asks, wiping her hands off with a red shop rag.

“Minutes ago. Ozpin had to leave to greet Ironwood.” Ruby takes in a deep breath, and lets it out in a bit of a sigh. “As you all know, we’re still off call for tonight and tomorrow. The following day is our next op. I want to brief you all now so you know how to prepare.”

She picks up one of her papers and a marker, and draws a circle on the map, southwest of Vale. “This is the target of a new Grimm offensive. Abbeyton. Small town. Ozpin thinks that the Grimm are going to use it as a foothold and resupply point to push their lines farther north towards Vale.” Ruby’s hand trails up the map to point to the area you were fighting in yesterday. “Atlas is penned up holding the lines to the north, and a detachment of Mistral’s main naval fleet is heading there but won’t get there in time to intercept. We can, however, rely on them to cut off the supply of new Grimm troops so we don’t get overrun.”

“So what’s our role in this mess?” Blake crosses her arms, eyeing the map.

“Simple. We infil to Abbeyton, and act as excursion to head off Grimm scouting the place. Abbeyton is small and is being evacuated right now. It’ll be a ghost town by the time we get there. But… it has an airfield. An inoperational airfield after the Grimm bombed it, but an airfield nonetheless that either Vale or the Grimm can rebuild. Once the situation gets too hot for us alone, we call in air and act as spotters for air-to-ground strikes.” Ruby starts to grin. “The good news is that I lobbied for JNPR to be that air support.”

You note the ridges surrounding the town, and the easy sea access that the town has. “What’s the count? And what’s our exit strategy?”

Ruby sifts through her papers and slides one over to you. “Pave Hawks from Phoenix Squadron will be standing by to pull us out if things get bad. They can get spun up and be in Abbeyton in 45 minutes as soon as we cry ‘wolf.’ As far as hostiles go… hard to say. Intel guesstimated at 200 fighters with light vehicles and shore-landing equipment. Abbeyton is a port city, after all.”

Blake pipes up. “A lot can happen in 45 minutes, Ruby….”

“It’s the best they can do. We’re trying to get Vacuo to contribute a quick reaction force to get there sooner and pull us out of the fire, but… they’ve got enough problems of their own. I wouldn’t rely on that QRF. We can trust Phoenix though. They’ve always stuck their necks out for us.”

Weiss shakes her head. “I don’t like it. If anything screws up our air, like bad weather, or faulty electronics… there’s no way out until the helicopters get there.”

“Look, everyone. We’ve never backed down before, and we’re not going to start now. We have our mission. Ozpin wouldn’t send us on a suicide mission.” Ruby locks eyes with each member of the team before continuing. “Get yourselves ready over the next day and a half. Clean your weapons, ready your loadouts, get hydrated and fueled up. I’m here if any of you need to talk it out.”

One by one, all of the team silently pledges their support behind Ruby and the mission, with Yang finally responding: “We’ll follow you anywhere.”


	10. Scotch on the Rocks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! Thanks for sticking with me this far! This chapter was a difficult write, but I hope you enjoy. Thanks for all of the feedback you've given me! I try my best to respond to as many comments as I can because you all are awesome. Keep it coming! Your support keeps me going on this.
> 
> For everyone waiting for the next mission to kick off, standby. It will be coming out in the next chapter.
> 
> Super-special shout-out to flagbearer_or_scouts for all of the continued help she's given me on this AU!

Ruby folds up the newly marked map and stores it away in a red folder labeled “Operation Albatross.”

Your scroll vibrates in your pocket, and it seems that you’re not the only one. You pull it out along with Yang, unlocking it and reading a message from “Jaune Arc.” It’s a group message between you, RWBY, and JNPR.

_Crow Bar in 30. RWBY’s invited. See you there._

“Everyone down for a little R&R tonight?” Yang asks the group.

You smile, happy to meet the other team of pilots. “I’d tag along.”

Ruby raises her hand. “I’m in.”

Weiss follows. “Me too. Not sure if I’ll drink or how much.”

Blake shrugs, looking at Yang. “Could be fun. Besides, someone’s gotta make sure you all make it back.” She points at Yang, sorta narrowing her gaze as a stern mother would. “Especially you.”

“No promises, kitty.”

Ruby shakes her head at the pair. “Just remember that if you get a hangover tomorrow, you’re prepping, not nursing it.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, you’re just mad that I could drink you under the table.”

Ruby rolls her eyes. “We leave in 10.”

…

Surprisingly, the Crow Bar is actually on base, within walking distance of the flightline, about 20 minutes. When you get there, the four pilots you met yesterday are already at a table, each with either a mug or some colorful concoction in front of them.

Lie Ren sees you first. “Look who showed up.”

Jaune, Pyrrha, and Nora turn around with warm smiles and bright eyes as Pyrrha offers a gentle wave. “Hello again!”

“Nice to see you all off of the flight line,” Jaune adds.

“Wouldn’t want to start the party without you!” Nora already has an empty mug and a shot glass in front of her, the alcohol only adding to her bubbly personality.

You chuckle. “Party? I was just hoping for a few drinks.”

“Party or not, Yang said y’all owe us a round,” Nora replies.

“Yang…” Ruby elbows the blonde in the side.

“We’ll put it on a tab.” Yang grins at Nora, then looks at the bar counter itself. She heads that way, and you follow, leaning on the polished wood when you get there. The bar is simple- an open front with a few tables, simple decorations adorning the area behind the counter, and objects hanging on the wall reminiscent of military flight.

Ruby offers a smile to the older gentleman behind the bar wearing a white t-shirt and standing a few inches taller than you. “Hey, Rupert!”

“Ruby, good to see you!” The bartender sets down a glass he had been swabbing out, letting both of his hands fall to the counter with a wide, Cheshire grin. “Here for a drink or two?” He glances at Yang. “Or… ten?”

“Yup. We’re here with JNPR.”

“Great. The usual to start?” You can’t help but notice Rupert’s near-constant grin even during the question. He is wearing a pink and purple striped polo, with black pants. His build is average, toned with olive-colored skin and dark brown hair.

“You got it.” Blake nods.

Weiss puts a finger up in the air to get Rupert’s attention. “Minus me. Just a scotch on the rocks. Top shelf. ”

 “That’s the spirit. Yang, Strawberry Sunrise, no ice.” Rupert starts mixing, shaking and pouring… flipping containers and catching them behind his back as he goes. In moments, he finishes the pinkish concoction, sliding it down to Yang.

“Ruby, Long Island Iced Tea.” Different process, same expertise. You can’t help but notice the whimsical nature of his work- humming to himself, balancing glasses on his arms, still widely grinning throughout the whole thing.

“Blake, Amber Ale, as cold as possible.” An impressive slide of a beer mug down the shiny counter perfectly tilts the glass against the tap. Rupert flicks the handle to start the pour of foamy, amber liquid.

“Weiss, scotch on the rocks…” He jumps up to grab a still-sealed bottle of scotch with a brand that you don’t recognize, simultaneously icing a glass with the other hand. He slowly pours Weiss’s drink, nearly mesmerizing you in the process.

“And… for the date?” He grins at you, eyebrows perked up inquisitively.

Teasingly, Yang puts her arm around you. “Not a date. The new guy. Switch.”

“What can I get you, Switch?”

You eye the tap handles, recognizing the same brand you drank last night. “I’ll start with a pint of Torchwick.”

A flurry of methodical and blended actions later, and the mug you requested is sitting in front of you. “Take care, now.”

You raise your glass to him with a nod. “Good to meet you, Rupert.”

…

Your mug is empty. Weiss is sitting on your right, Jaune and Pyrrha on your left. Everyone else fills the rest of the space around the circular table.

“Nora, you know you can’t win this.”

“TRY ME, SISTER!”

Nora and Yang are only a quarter of the way through their rack of shots. Somehow, the concept of alcohol digestion came up, which led to Yang stating that nobody could match her shot-for-shot. Well, Nora obliged, and here you are.

Nora grabs another small glass of brown transparent liquid. “DOWN THE HATCH!” Both her and Yang tip it back, clinking the glasses upside down on the table afterwards.

So… that’s only the second mug for you. Slight tingle in the fingers, the familiar warm sensation… you could go harder. But not tonight. Tomorrow you’ll have to help Blake take care of Yang, and get your gear together in the process.

Weiss, on the other hand… for a girl on her fourth glass… You have a suspicion that she’s very much a lightweight, especially given her current tirade.

“I just don’t see why Ironwood gives a shit about my hair!” She slams her fist down on the table. “This is special operations. Blake’s hair is out of regulations, Yang’s hair is out of regulations. I’m not gonna be my sister and wear it in a bun.” She turns to you, her hand falling to your thigh. “Switch… Winter’s hair looks terrible, doesn’t it? Compared to mine?”

“Weiss, I haven’t even met your sister.”

Weiss’s buzzed eyes look past you to Jaune and Pyrrha. “You two have, right?”

“Uh… no?” Jaune responds.

“Well, what the hell.” Weiss sits back in her chair with a bit of a slump. She glances up to a TV on the wall, where a news headline seems to be focusing on the recent increase in White Fang terrorist attacks.

You recall the first time the White Fang’s attacks made mainstream media. A semi-truck filled with nitrogen-based fertilizer exploded next to a tour bus on the outskirts of Vale, when White Fang activists backfilled the diesel tanks into the fertilizer and ignited it. The explosion killed a dozen and wounded double that.

“Are you kidding me? More White Fang?” She crosses her arms. “Bunch of Faunus that deserve to be locked up for a very long time.” She pauses. “Faunus just complicate EVERYTHING.”

Blake, until then paying attention to Yang and Nora’s drinking contest, suddenly turns in her chair. “Excuse me?”

Weiss points to the TV. “Headlines, kitty.”

“Just because the White Fang are Faunus and radicals does NOT mean all Faunus are like that!”

“Uh… terrorists? Killing civilians? That’s a bad way for the Faunus to earn support for their cause.”

“Shut up! We’re not Grimm! You can’t generalize Faunus like that.”

“We? You still sympathize with them, Blake?”

Anger flashes across Blake’s face, her hands curling into fists. Then, like a spring suddenly releasing tension, she darts out of the bar.

“Blake!” Ruby calls out after her.

Your jaw is on the floor, looking at Blake running out and then back to Weiss.

Yang suddenly gets up out of her chair, sloppily knocking it over in the process and making a beeline towards Weiss. “What the hell, Ice Queen? She’s your teammate, and MY GIRLFRIEND!” She reels back to take a swing, suddenly losing her balance and falling into a nearby table with Ruby moving to help her.

With a glance back at Weiss, you suddenly stand up, running out of the bar after Blake.

…

_Where did she go?_

Ruby stayed behind to talk with Weiss, Lie Ren to watch out for drunk Nora and Yang, and Pyrrha and Jaune split from you to search for Blake. You didn’t actually see where she went when she ran out.

_Only one more place to check..._

The hangar. You enter through the back door, eyes scanning for any sign of Blake. Your sight doesn’t find her in the lonely darkness of the hangar, but you hear a sniffle. Then a sob.

_Blake._

Slowly, your vision brightens while your pupils dilate and adjust to the low light. You see a form sitting on the edge of Yang’s lofted bed.

“Blake…”

She doesn’t respond. You take a few steps closer, now seeing that she has her face buried in one hand, and the other holding the black bow that normally covers her cat ears, even in battle.

“I’m sorry… Weiss didn’t mean any of it…”

“You don’t understand. I know she didn’t mean any of it. But she’s right.” Blake reaches up to wipe her eyes. “I don’t wanna talk about it, Y/N.”

You nod, climbing up to be in Ruby’s bed, across from Blake. “We don’t have to talk about it, Blake. I know I’m new… but… if you ever want to, I’m here. Don’t hesitate to ask.” Ozpin’s words echo in your mind as they also leave your lips.

“Switch… you don’t know me.”

“Maybe not. But… you’re my teammate.”

Blake shakes her head, trying to clear her thoughts. “I know you read my dossier. I know you know that they redacted part of my service history.” She sighs, looking down at the black bow in her hand. “I… I guess you deserve to know if we’re gonna be pulling eachother out of the fire at some point.”

“You can trust me, Blake.”

“But how do you know that you can trust me?”

“Again… you’re my teammate. I already trust you in the field. What could possibly make me doubt that trust outside of combat?”

“What if… I told you that I used to be a member of the White Fang?” Blake unwraps one of the black ribbons around her wrist, revealing a tattoo of the White Fang’s symbol.

“Why?”

“This was before they targeted civilians like they do now. We were freedom fighters, somewhat violent advocates for Faunus equality. Sometimes even guns for hire. They… splintered as time went on. My partner… “ She pauses, the sting of a sour memory crossing her face. “His name was Adam… organized the Vale Truck Bombing. That semi-truck explosion.” Another long, shaky breath. “I… can’t kill innocent people for the cause of equality, or for money. I made my choice to run. And I found Yang, and the 44th…”

Blake looks up at the ceiling, letting go of her bow for it to float to the floor. “It’s stupid, but Weiss is right. I still want Faunus equality. Those activists are my people. My friends. They’re… misguided. And I can’t do anything about it, when they get themselves killed or kill innocent people…”

“You’re making a difference here, Blake. You’re saving innocent lives and safeguarding civilians from the Grimm.” You put a hand on her shoulder. “Kids, mothers, families, would all call you a hero.”

“The family that the White Fang executed? While Ruby and Weiss watched? They wouldn’t say that.”

“Blake… you can’t blame yourself for that.”

“Too late.”

“Then we’ll make sure that it doesn’t happen again.”

“And… what if we can’t, and more innocent people die?”

You squeeze her shoulder and smile. “Blake, we’re RWBY. We’ll stop them. _I promise you that._ ”

Blake looks up at you, your gaze locking with hers. “Thanks, Switch…”

You hop down from the bed, and take Blake’s hair bow to hand up to her. She takes it, but doesn’t put it on. Instead, she places it on Yang’s pillow.

You reach into your pocket, pulling out your scroll to send a quick message to Ruby, Yang and Weiss.

_Found Blake. We’re at the hangar._

Send. You think for a moment, then add:

_She’s okay._

Send.

 


	11. OP Albatross: Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For those of you patiently waiting since last week for the start of Albatross, here it is! Thank you all so, so much for all of the feedback. I cherish every comment I get.
> 
> "No plan survives first contact with the enemy."

“Ruby, when’s the time hack for Albatross?” Weiss throws two large, brown bags into the back of the Humvee, next to two rifle bags and numerous green ammunition boxes. The tan and green camouflage truck sits in front of the hangar on the tarmac. It’s hot- the kind of hot that melts the asphalt and makes your boots stick to the ground as you walk.

Ruby is kneeling on the roof, straddling the action of the vehicle’s mounted gun. Streaks of grease across her face and hands are evidence of the checks she’s been doing on the large M2HB ‘Ma Deuce.’ The M2 is an impressive weapon- sitting just over 5 feet in length, and over 80 pounds, it can lob armor-piercing rounds out to 2000 yards. “Go-time for leaving is exactly one hour away.”

“That’s two hours to make sure we’re ready.” Blake calls from under the hood of the truck, next to Yang. Yang is in the area under the engine bay, on her back, calling for different tools from Blake.

“The guys at transpo know what they’re doing, but they always miss a few things.” Yang’s hand reaches out from under the front bumper. “Blake, 9/16 deepwell.”

Blake places the socket in Yang’s hand, which is then followed by a clank and a loud “OUCH!” from the blonde.

You’re standing back in the hangar, but within earshot of the whole conversation. Your job has been loading gearbags and equipment into the truck. Picking up two more ammo crates full of 200 round belts for the Yang’s SAW, you hoof them over and slide them in. “Would… anyone be opposed to running through the OPORD again?” The air outside smells heavily of aviation gas. Planes and helicopters have been taking off and landing all morning, some returning with battle damage and bullet holes.

Ruby wipes heavy beads of sweat from her brow and flicks strands of shaggy black hair out of her face. “Sure, Switch. But this will be the abridged version.”

You sort through the whole mission again in your head, let out a breath, and start. “30 minutes prior to the go-time, we’ll gear up. At the go-time, we roll out of Beacon’s gates and burn as fast as we can to Abbeyton. Estimated 3 hours by driving on roads. That’s within friendly territory, but we’ll have air cover from JNPR the whole way there. Maiden’s drone will already be over the town when we get there, but it won’t have any weapons on it.”

You step back from the truck, silently eyeing the gear there but not stopping with the mission either. It’s good practice to be able to recall the mission while focused on something else. “Once we’re in the town, we’ll rig chokepoints and pathways with explosives. If…”

You stop, and correct yourself. “ _When_ vehicles start to come through, we’ll blow them, blocking those pathways. We’ll handle infantry on our own, and only bring our Humvee into action when we need it. That’s our primary exit. Secondary exit is Phoenix Squadron, 45 minutes away. Tertiary exit is up to us. JNPR will be assisting us with gun runs and ordnance from Ren and Nora, while Jaune and Pyrrha establish air superiority.”

Weiss nods, her arms crossed at the back of the truck, looking over equipment with you. “Perfect.”

“I’m not saying it will be simple, but we do have full authority on the ground.” Ruby reaches for another tool on the roof. “Switch, can you grab me another bottle of gun lube?”

Yang starts laughing under the engine. “Ruby, you _are_ gun-sexual.”

Ruby straightens up and blushes a bit. “Yang!”

“What? You’re the one asking for lube while straddling a machine gun.”

Blake shakes her head, slight upturn at the corner of her lips. “She’s got a point.”

Ruby sighs and plants her forehead into her palm. “Lube, Switch.”

You can’t help but let out a chuckle, and turn to head back to the workbench.

“And bring me a can of 50 while you’re at it!”

The hangar seems… empty. Most of the equipment, gearbags, and weapons are in the truck, but it still doesn’t have the safe feeling that it normally does. The last time you were leaving from this place on a mission, you hadn’t seen combat yet. You hadn’t killed anyone yet. You hadn’t seen anyone die. It’s not that you dread going back… in fact, part of you craves that adrenaline rush again. But now, you know what it’s like, what can happen… how long will it be before your head is turned to pieces like Lieutenant Vance? How long before one of the girls ends up bleeding out when there’s nothing you can do?

A lot can go wrong on this mission. On any mission.

You grab a large bottle of CLP, and an ammo can of .50 BMG. The can is heavy… it weighs you down as you bring it back out to the truck.

“Ruby, catch!” You toss the bottle up to your team leader, and heft the green box up onto the roof.

“Thanks. Start gearing up. 45 minutes to roll-out.”

…

You pull your gloves on, testing the fit and curling your fingers before fastening the Velcro at the wrists.

Aside from Thermo, that’s the last thing you have to do. You’re ready to go.

Ruby slams the top cover of the mounted gun down, pulling the charging handle twice to test its operation. You’ve fired the 50 before, and pulling that handle is _hard_ if you don’t have the strength. Ruby pulls and releases it with ease.

“The 50’s up.” She tells the team as she jumps down from the roof.

Yang replies from below the truck again. “Engine is almost good to go… just tightening things back up.” The clank of tools being gathered hits your ears when you walk back over to the truck. Yang slides out from underneath and closes the hood, tightening the polymer straps on the sides and corners to secure it.

Yang joins Ruby beside the Humvee, as do you, Weiss, and Blake to form a circle of mixed emotions. Yang is still smiley as ever, with Blake wearing a somber, stoic expression as her arms stay crossed. Weiss leans back against the Humvee, and adjusts her beret. You bring a hand up and rest it on Solution at your hip, fiddling with it in its holster as the thoughts that hit you back in the hangar begin to dissipate.

Ruby lets out a breath, more of a sigh. “Alright. This is it.” A pause. “How’s everybody feeling?”

Yang cracks her knuckles. “Ready to rock and roll.”

Weiss gives Ruby a gentle nod. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

Ruby’s gaze falls to you. You’d be lying if you said your heartbeat wasn’t a little faster than normal. “A little nervous. There’s a lot to go wrong.”

“We’ve got your back, Switch.”

Ruby glances at Blake, who just gives a ‘thumbs up’ from a black-gloved hand.

“Good. Saddle up.”

…

The rumble of the diesel engine combined with the scent of unburned sulfur fills your nostrils as Team RWBY passes the gates of Beacon Field, turning to the southwest on a road towards Abbeyton. Not a half hour passes before the Humvee transitions to gravel roads. Blake is driving, with Ruby in the passenger seat beside her. You and Weiss are in the back two seats, her on the driver’s side and you on the passenger’s side. Yang is on the mounted gun, normally a standing position, but she had fashioned a makeshift sling to hold her weight that swings back and forth with the motion of the Humvee.

Despite the loud engine and the sound of rocks hitting the underside, the ride is oddly soothing. In fact, the outside sounds serve to make a sort of white noise, putting you in your own isolated thought bubble for a while.

_How many Grimm are we ACTUALLY going up against?_

_Do we have the ordnance to deal with the vehicles they bring?_

_Is JNPR going to be able to help us with air support?_

_How long will JNPR be able to stay in station?_

_Do I have the medical skills and supplies to save one of my teammates?_

_What if I’m the one who gets wounded?_

_Is Vacuo going to give us any help?_

_If we call for extraction, how long is Phoenix 1-1 actually going to take to get there?_

Ruby half-turns in her seat, hitting Yang’s leg to get her attention as she calls to the team. “Everyone, check radios. We’re getting on frequency 1-4. JNPR will be on 1-3.” She switches her radio on, and calls over it. “RWBY 1, checking in.”

Weiss already has hers set. “RWBY 2, checking in.”

Blake, hands full with driving, finds enough time to take her hand off of the wheel and turn her own on. “RWBY 3.”

Yang’s voice, along with wind noise and a laugh, comes over the comms. “RWBY 4, having the time of her life.” A glance up at her shows her signature grin complete with dark aviator sunglasses and the wind sweeping her hair back.

Your call is the final one. “RWBY 5, switched on.”

…

Jaune’s voice stirs you from your thoughts once again. “Air Element 5677 to Excursion Team 7929. You reading us, RWBY?”

Weiss responds, the dual sound of her voice right beside you and over the radio temporarily confusing your ear. “Lima Charlie, Jaune. Loud and clear. Good to have angels over us.”

Nora snorts, and laughs. “Does that make Jaune the ‘Arc’-angel?”

You peer out the window, trying to get a glimpse of JNPR’s planes. You barely catch sight of Ren and Nora making a banked turn away from you.

The next reply comes from Pyrrha’s voice, soft and calm as ever. “We’re not angels, Weiss. But we do fly like them. We’ll cover you as best we can.”

“Roger, Pyrrha. We’ll reestablish radio contact when we’re closer to Abbeyton. Weiss out.”

The cab of the Humvee is much warmer than when you first started off, evidence of the poor ventilation even with the windows lowered. However, you remember from the map that Abbeyton is surrounded by ridges and low mountains. It will cool off as you get closer to the sea and the hills shield you from Vacuo’s warmer climate. Still, it’s hot now, so you take a moment to roll up your sleeves.

“Switch, what’s your blood type?” Weiss asks, speaking up over the sound of the engine and rocks.

“O positive… why?”

Weiss has a roll of duct tape in her hands, and she tears off a piece of it, writing the letters “O+POS” on it before handing it to you. “Put that on your boot.”

“Isn’t that supposed to be bad luck or something?”

“Not in the 44th.” Weiss reaches down and pulls her pant leg up a bit, revealing a similar piece of duct tape with the letters ‘B-NEG’ on it.

“Alrighty then.” You pull your own pant leg up and adhere the piece of synthetic fabric to your right boot.

…

“Welcome to Abbeyton!” Yang is the first one to spot the small sea town through the trees as the Humvee descends down hilly, light forested roads.

The sky is clear out here, and the temperature has cooled down quite a bit since you’re so close to the sea. You still leave your sleeves rolled up, however. Abbeyton has a very home-y feel to it, the antique architecture and old-fashioned simple grid layout welcoming the team in.

Your first thought, however, is how much of a hell the town could be to fight in. The straight streets will restrict the movement of vehicles attempting to push past you, but any infantry has many, many places to take cover from JNPR’s air attacks.

“Blake, you and Switch take what explosives you can and start laying them along this line here.” Ruby has a map out with the gridline features of the city, and is highlighting different positions with a red marker. “I want to create a funnel so we can pressure them to bunch up. Weiss, you’re with me. We’re gonna get a birds-eye view from the top of one of-“

She is interrupted by a Weiss putting a hand up and bring the other to her ear. “Thanks for the warning, Maiden.” Weiss brings her hands back down. “First landing craft just hit the piers. Much sooner than expected. Two squads, about a dozen fighters.”

“Shit.” Ruby’s eyes keep dancing over the map. “Proceed with the same plan. Blake and Y/N, take suppressors, but don’t shoot unless you absolutely have to. Yang, I want you back here with the truck for now. If things go south, I want this building to be the one we fall back to.” Ruby circles the building you’re currently outside of on the map. “Questions?” She waits for a few seconds, a wind starting to blow from the sea and toss her hair across her face. “Go.”

You jump up with Blake, grabbing silencers from your gearbag for both Thermo and Solution. The addition of a silencer to the former puts the gun just shy of three feet long stock to muzzle, and a bit less than seven pounds. Still, it has the same familiar curves that you’ve handled numerous times before.

 You also haul a heavy bag filled with anti-vehicle mines to your back. You give a thumbs-up to Blake, heading out with her leading the way.

…

“Explosives at location D set and armed. Clearing out.” Your voice is low, trying to stay as quiet as possible.

Ruby calls back to you in the same hushed tone. “Keep going, Panther. We have visual confirmation of those two squads Maiden talked about. They split off from eachother.” A pause. “They’re going building-by-building. You’ve got time.”

“Understood. And who’s Panther?”

“You and Blake. It’s your pairing name.”

“Huh?”

“She wears black gear, you’re wearing grey and black camouflage. She’s also a cat-Faunus. It makes sense in my mind, okay?”

You don’t respond, instead picking up the much lighter explosives bag. Before you sling it onto your shoulders, however, Blake grabs your shoulder, squeezing it hard and making you freeze in your tracks. The cat ears on top of her head are twitching and rotating. You can’t hear anything, but you sit there in silence, patiently waiting with your heartbeat speeding up in anticipation and adrenaline.

“Did anybody else hear that?”

“Hear what, Blake?” Ruby replies.

“A scream. Came from the north. It was female.”

You close your eyes, trying to hear what Blake can. Slowly, you put your bag on, getting ready to move.

It feels as if minutes go by before anybody else says anything.

Weiss makes the next call. “Team... There are still civilians here. I count four… Grimm are dragging them out of that apartment complex…” You hear her take an unsteady breath over the radio. “Panther, push up the street you’re on right now for a half mile, then wheel right 100 yards. You’ll be right on top of them.”

“On it. Let’s move, Switch!”

Blake takes off, almost at a run but still without making a noise. You follow her as best you can, unable to keep up with the jostling, shaking backpack and staying silent at the same time.

“They’re gonna kill them… Ruby… They’re just gonna kill them.” It’s Weiss’s voice. “Hands bound, on their knees…” Weiss’s voice falters a little bit. For some reason, Weiss’s radio is stuck on. You can hear everything that comes through her microphone, but that also means that she _won’t_ hear anything anyone else says.

You hear Ruby’s voice, piped through Weiss’s open microphone. “Weiss, let Panther get there.”

“Ruby, this… this can’t happen again. Not while we watch.”

“Weiss… calm down.”

“Calm down?!” Weiss raises her voice. “No more innocents, Ruby. No more nightmares. This. Can’t. Happen. Again.”

Blake hurries the pace even more. “Ruby, Weiss, we’re 15 seconds out. Feed us info. How many are there?”

Neither Weiss nor Ruby respond to Blake’s question. Weiss’s mic is still open.

“Ruby… take the shot. It’s only 300 yards.”

“I do that, Blake and Switch are blown and we’re fighting the whole Grimm force.”

“Take the fucking shot!”

“Stand down, Weiss!”

Blake suddenly stops at the corner of the street, peeking around the corner and holding up a fist. She whispers back to you as you try to tune out the noise over the radio. “I take right. You take left.”

You swallow, nodding. Your hands are clammy from sweat, and your pulse pounds hard in your ear. This is the closest you’ve ever been to Grimm.

You’ve got a job to do. _Flip the switch._

“Go.”

Smoothly turn the corner with Blake. Gun at your shoulder, both eyes open with the sights on your gun in clear view.

Work left to right. First Grimm is less than 5 feet away. Squeeze the trigger. Your gun sounds more like a cough than a gunshot. Squeeze the trigger again, he crumples.

Two more targets in your field of view. Bring reticle to them, squeeze the trigger. First one’s head snaps backwards. Focus on the next one. Squeeze the trigger. Again. Again. Two of your rounds connect with the armor in his chest, while the last climbs and finds his clavicle and punches a hole straight through.

“Clear?” You call out to Blake.

“Clear.” She replies.

“Ruby, Switch. I’m sure you saw that whole thing. Civilians secure. Orders?”

“I did. Good hunting. Move them to Yang ASAP.” Ruby pauses. “This op just got a lot more complicated.”

 You sling your rifle and kneel next to the group you just saved. They’re all blindfolded and their hands are bound. One older woman in her 40’s, a younger girl who can’t be older than 10, a teenage boy, and an older man with a makeshift splint around an obviously broken leg.

Something… nauseating and disgusting rolls in your stomach at the sight of innocent civilians just lined up to be shot like that. You let out a sigh of relief at the fact that you’re there. Each of them are safe, thanks to you and Blake.

You step up to the woman, taking a knee in front of her. As she hears you, she submissively pulls back, her breathing unsteady and panicked. “Easy… we’re Vale special forces. We’re here to help.” Gingerly, you ease the blindfold off.

Her eyes dart around at the dead soldiers before settling on you. She closes her eyes again, shaking her head while a tear rolls down her cheek. “Thank you…. Thank you so much….” Behind her, Blake cuts the binds on her hands. She almost instantly throws her arms around you, squeezing you hard.

“We need to get you and your… family out of here, ma’am. Can you move?”

“Yes. My name is Meg. These are my two kids, and my father. He broke his leg the day that Abbeyton was evacuated. We treated him and couldn’t get out. Without you… I don’t know what the Grimm would’ve done…”

You help the woman to her feet, while Blake keeps removing blindfolds and cutting the family loose. Meg runs over to her family, giving each of them a tight, loving hug and a few words of comfort.

For you, Ruby’s words echo through your mind.

_This op just got a lot more complicated._


	12. OP Albatross: Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Strap in, everyone. This one's gonna be long.
> 
> Thanks again to all of you who keep giving me feedback. You keep me going!

"Switch, we need to move. Now." Blake is turned outward, her cat ears turning and circling with her gun still at her shoulder.

"Agreed." You step up to the woman again. "Meg, the rest of our squad is at the south entrance to the city. We need to head that way before more Grimm show up."

"Yes. Of course." She glances at her father, who is sitting on the ground and looking up at both of you. "But.. my father can't move too fast."

A quick survey of his leg from where you're standing lowers your spirits. You or Blake would have to carry him, leaving only one of you to protect the whole group. You walk over and take a knee next to him, looking at his leg in a bit more detail. "Sir, do you think it would hurt if I or my teammate carried you out?"

He shakes his head, answering in a coarse and gravelly tone. "No. I can handle it."

You nod, stepping forward to take his arm. You start to help him up and onto your shoulders. "Alright. Easy, up…" Then, you feel a tap against your arm.

"Sir… I can take my grandpa." The teenager is next to you, already taking your patient's other arm.

"We gotta move fast, kid…"

"I play rugby at school. I'm tough. Let me take him."

You look up at Blake, then back to the boy. "If you're sure…"

"I've always wanted be a huntsman like you. Special Operations at the 44th. I've already been getting ready for the selection pipeline." With a grunt, he hauls his grandfather up onto his shoulders. "This… I can do this."

"Okay. Let's go, Blake!" You point up the street, back to where Yang and the truck are located. The teenager starts a heavy jog, Meg and the little one following close behind. You stay behind with Blake, bounding one person at a time, your head always turning and looking for that second Grimm squad that Maiden had spotted.

Blake's voice calls over the radio. "Ruby, we're on our way back to Yang. Do you have a visual on that second squad?"

"Negative. We lost them when you took down the first squad. Still looking."

You stay within a few meters of the civilians, still looking back every few steps.

"You guys alright?" Yang calls from the window of the building you started at.

"Yeah! In here, everyone!" You respond.

The teenager carries his grandfather in, setting him down gently against a wall. Meg and her daughter follow.

Yang shoots a grin to the youngster, oddly calm at the sight of her. "Hey, sweetie, what's your name?"

She retreats behind her mother, eyeing the unusual combat gear and weapons strapped to Yang.

Meg brings a hand up into her daughter's hair, coming down to a knee beside her. "Ally… these people are going to keep us safe from the Grimm, okay? They're the heroes Uncle Cardin always talks about. Nothing to be scared of.

Yang takes a knee as well, pulling her gloves off to reach a hand out to Ally. Ally still recoils and stays close to her mother, but hesitantly reaches out to touch Yang's hand in return. "Nobody is going to touch a hair on that little head of yours."

You can't help but smile at Yang. You turn your attention to the teenager, who is kneeling by his grandfather and checking the splint. "So, you want to be a huntsman?"

He turns to look at you, nodding earnestly. "More than anything."

"What's your name?"

"It's Sam. Or… Sammy. I've got a brother in the military, but he's not a special ops like you." He looks down at his knees, pausing for a moment. "I… I can fight with you. I know the Grimm are coming, now that they know you're all here."

"Sam… how old are you?"

"I'm 16. I'm gonna join in two years anyway. I can do it."

You put your hand on his shoulder. "Then don't throw those two extra years away. Your time to fight will come. But right now, I need you to be here for your family."

Sam's eyes narrow, anger furrowing his brow. "And what if you can't stop the Grimm? I'm just supposed to sit here while they try to kill us again?"

"You just have to trust us."

"And you can't promise me that 5 of you can stop more than 200 Grimm soldiers."

You let out a breath, knowing that Sam isn't gonna let this go. You reach down and undo the pistol belt that holds Solution, and a number of magazines for it. "Do you know what weapon this is?"

"Yes, sir. It's a Colt 1911, also known as the M1911 or M45. It shoots .45 ACP bullets from a 7 round magazine. My brother showed me."

You hand the belt to him. "You are NOT to leave this room unless we tell you to. Got it?"

He nods.

"If anyone comes through this door that isn't me or my team, you give them two to the chest and one to the head, understood?"

"Yes, sir!" Sam wraps the pistol belt around his waist, leaving Solution holstered.

"But I need you to do something else." You turn, and point to Ally. "See Ally? She's scared. I need you to be a big brother for her. Show her you're strong and let her know that the good guys are here to help. Can you do that?"

"Of course."

"Switch, let's get outside!" Yang picks her weapon up off of the ground, standing.

You pat Sam on the shoulder, locking eyes with him. "Do you understand everything I said?"

"I do." Sam nods as you stand back up. "Thank you, sir… and good luck."

You give him a 'thumbs-up' and a grin, following Yang outside.

Ruby and Weiss are running back up the street to the Humvee. Blake is at the back, taking her silencer off and digging more ammunition out of her gearbag. Yang rests her SAW across her shoulders. "What's the rush, sis?"

Ruby stops, panting for a second before straightening up and replying. "Bad news… they found the dead squad… we've got 15 minutes, tops…."

Weiss turns, facing away from the conversation and keying in her radio. "Maiden, RWBY 2. We need an infrared sweep of the town. See if there are any more civilians before we start calling in close air support." She pauses, listening to a reply that your radio isn't keyed in to hear. "Copy. RWBY standing by."

Ruby looks at Weiss, then back at you and Yang, speaking in a low voice. "We can't call in any air until we know we won't be harming any more civilians that got stuck here."

You nod, sending a glance at Weiss and speaking in the same low voice. "Is… she okay? Are you okay? I know that couldn't have been-"

Ruby puts up a hand, cutting you off. "Later. We'll talk about that later." She lowers her hand, pulling out the map of the town. "Switch, you find cover on this main street. You'll be able to see everything. Yang, stick close to this building, and suppress down this street and that street." Ruby draws red lines down two gridlines on the map. "Blake and I will cover flanks from these two alleys. Weiss will float and call in air…. Once we get it." Ruby folds up the map, tucking it away in her vest. "We don't know if there are still civilians here. Watch your shots, and go for vital areas only."

…

You lay prone beside a steel lined dumpster, armed to the teeth with more ammunition and grenades than you've ever carried before. To your right, across the street, is Ruby, kneeling with her SR-25 behind an abandoned car. Her barrel is resting on the hood, the whole rifle a bit less than 4 feet but not presenting a challenge to Ruby at all as far as handling goes. From where Ruby is kneeling, she can see just as far as you can, but also has vantage points and shooting lanes through an alley on her right.

The street you're on is lined with two and three story buildings containing shops and roadside restaurants. Some have balconies along the top. Behind you, Weiss is on one of those balconies, a fully loaded Myrtenaster at her side.

Yang is one street over on your left. There's a few alleys that connect to her position from where you are, if you need to get to her.

Blake is… nowhere to be found. She turned into a shadow after restocking her equipment at the Humvee. But that's her style- that's how she fights. Quietly. Silently.

The Humvee- and the one-story building where Meg, Ally, Sam, and the grandfather are hiding- is about 200 yards behind you, straight up the street. It would be an easy retreat back to the truck if you need more space to fight.

Movement catches your eye. You look down the sight of your rifle, scanning and searching for the movement you just saw.

There it is. The black uniform, red accents.

_They're here._

"Team, visual confirmation. 250 yards. My street." You announce, your voice low as if whispering.

Ruby replies first. "I'm seeing movement all over the place, too. Team, confirm you all have hostiles."

Yang: "Just a few over here."

Weiss: "Confirm. No vehicles yet. I've got at least a dozen."

Blake: "Affirmative on hostiles."

You only hear the sound of your breathing, and your heartbeat in your ear. No wind, no animals, no talking, nothing.

_The calm before the storm._

Ruby's voice breaks through. "Team, pick your targets. Switch, get this thing kicked off. Everyone, engage on his shot."

This is it. Flip the switch.

Grimm soldier. Now at 200 yards. Aim down the sight. Focus between the eyes. He stops behind cover, not seeing you or any of the team. Light pressure on the trigger with the pad of your finger…

The shot rings out, echoing off of the buildings around you. The soldiers head snaps to the side, his body falling limp.

Everything erupts.

Ruby's powerful rifle sings its brash and powerful note beside you, once, twice, then a third time. You see Grimm in front of you crumpling to the ground with each one.

To your left, machine gun fire. The typewriter rhythm of Yang's shooting also bounces off of the walls and buildings, the whole ensemble creating the ugly melody of war.

Refocus. Eyes down the sight. Grimm running, 200 yards again. Squeeze trigger. Shot misses. Squeeze again, hit him, low stomach, beneath the plate. He stumbles, and you fire again. He falls stiffly to the ground.

A crack rushes by above you, followed by more all around you.

_A hiss means they're shooting. A crack means it's close._

They know where _you_ are.

Keep shooting. Stand your ground. Flip the switch on Thermo to fully automatic, and focus on Grimm moving from cover to cover. Light bursts of your weapon clash with the harmony of the hisses, cracks, and gunshots passing by your team.

"Weiss, where's our air support?" Yang shouts over the radio.

It's a moment or two before Weiss responds. Time to talk during a gunfight is hard to come by. "Above us! Maiden never cleared us to use ordnance in the city. They're still doing their thermal sweep with the drone."

The thought crosses your mind that that also means you can't blow the explosives that you and Blake set. It's just guns for now.

"Damn it!" Yang's last response isn't said over the radio. You hear it, even over the distance and gunfire.

"Loading!" Ruby shouts from across the street as she drops behind cover to stab a new magazine into her rifle.

You lean out from your position again to shoot, but instantly recoil back in as you hear the crack of a round rush past your head. You… could actually feel the _heat_ off of it.

Okay, okay, _think._ Lean out again, put a few rounds out, tuck back in. Keep snapping out and back in. Grimm are… much, much closer now. 75 yards.

You fire your last shot, physically feeling the bolt lock back. Press the magazine release, the spent metal box falling to the ground with a clank.

"Loading!" You shout.

Dig a new one out of your vest, slam it into the gun and press the bolt release. That's the fourth mag you've gone through.

"ROCKET!"

Ruby's scream just hits your ears when the white ball of light streaks in and hits the ground beside the dumpster. The shockwave knocks you onto your back, as you struggle to roll and get back behind cover, incoming rounds kicking up plumes of dust all around you.

You cough, shaking out the ringing in your ears at the same time.

Weiss is the first one to call to you. "Switch! You okay?"

You blink rapidly, still trying to get your bearings as you get a reply back out. "Yeah… fine…."

"You're lucky!"

"... Rather be lucky than good any day..."

Come on. Get back in the fight.

You lean out from your spot one more time, now seeing black and red uniforms at 50 yards. Too many to count. They're everywhere.

Take aim at the first one you see, behind another abandoned car. His barrel is pointed at you. Squeeze the trigger. He fires at you. He misses. You don't.

Next one by that doorway. Aim down your sight. Keep both eyes open. Why is your aim so shaky? Fire. Miss. Fire again. He stumbles back, feeling for your shot, and his hand comes up covered in crimson as he falls. He lays on the ground, squirming and shouting for help.

Just like your first battle, another soldier runs out to help him. Squeeze the trigger three times. Another kill.

Another ball of white light comes streaking in at you. You duck behind the dumpster, the rocket shooting past you and exploding well behind.

The sound of jet engines above you breaks your attention, from the rocket and to the skies. The skies are much cloudier now, and the dust kicked up by gunfire is forming a haze that only reflects the glare from the sun that much more.

"RWBY! Maiden cleared us on the city. Pick your targets, and we'll nail them!" It's Jaune.

You look behind you to the balcony that Weiss is on. She already has the laser designator up to her eyes, ready to call in the first airstrike of the fight. "Nora, I'm marking the main street where Grimm are most concentrated. Service the targets right down the middle. You're cleared hot!"

Nora's voice replies. "Got it! Coming through!"

Moments later, her A-10 rolls in, extremely low to the ground. In front of you, several small explosions erupt, kicking up dust and presenting you with a cacophony of loud booms.

Weiss, regaining her aforementioned calm over the radio, reports. "Great guns, Nora, great guns. Ren, same deal. Cleared hot!"

"Roger, vectoring in now."

Another A-10, this one striped with green and black colors, flies over you and unleashes another hail from the plane's 30mm main gun. This time, the Grimm in front of you scatter behind cover, giving you a moment to catch your breath.

"Team! Fall back to the building! I want another perimeter around it. Use JNPR's gun runs as covering fire." Ruby orders over the radio.

Since Ruby is right across the street from you, you just shout to her. "Moving!" You regain your feet, waiting for Nora's second pass on the Grimm soldiers. Just like for Ren, the bullets stop flying at you when Nora starts shooting. You sprint towards the building, sliding behind a civilian truck when you hear Nora's gun stop. Immediately, you post up over the hood, firing a burst when you see Ruby sprinting up towards you.

Angry hisses start coming by you again. Each one sounds like a rattlesnake, but you have no way of knowing which one is going to bite.

Ruby dives behind a low wall that encloses what used to be a restaurant's outdoor café. Incoming shots crunch into the truck's engine block, leaving you thankful for the huge chunk of aluminum and steel to soak up all of bullets.

"You okay?" You shout over to her.

She's panting, but holds a 'thumbs-up' to you, shortly after dropping the current magazine out of her rifle and sliding a new one in.

"Hey, guys? They're falling back!" Yang sounds… excited. Relieved.

Blake responds, the first time you've heard from her since the shooting started. "I'm seeing that, too. It's not over. They'll be back."

No more hisses. No more cracks. Popping out over the hood again, you see a number of them bounding back to the north, where they came from. You fire a few parting shots, but most of them are out of range.

Ruby catches her breath, and punches her radio key. "Weiss, keep JNPR on them. Don't let them advance again. Everyone else, rally up at the truck, and restock your ammo." A pause. "Is anyone hit? One up."

"Two up."

"Three up."

"Four up."

You hit your radio key. "Five up."

…

Weiss sits against the tire of the Humvee, talking to JNPR over the radio. "How much longer can you all stay on station?"

Your radio is dialed in to the conversation, so you can hear Jaune's reply. "We need to break off to refuel, but after that… we'll shoot until we have nothing left to use."

"How far away is the tanker?"

You hear Pyrrha for the first time all day. "It'll be at least 40 minutes before we're back on station, Weiss. I'm sorry."

"Don't be. Just get back here as fast as you can."

"Will do. JNPR out."

The planes above you reform into a formation and head south, away from the fight.

However, as they fly away, Ren's voice comes on. "Good luck, RWBY."

"We're gonna need that air." Ruby is behind the same low wall, gun rested over the edge. She's actively looking through her scope, though you're not sure how much she can see. The dust from JNPR's airstrikes still hovers in the air. "Beowolves. At least 50 guys. Maybe Ursa behind them."

You finish replacing all of the magazines in your vest. "What are you thinking, Ruby?"

She keeps looking down her scope but lets out a breath. "Proceed with the game plan. When they get close, we blow those explosives you and Blake placed. The wreckage should block the roads, and keep the vehicles away, until Ursa show up if they brought any. They're just gonna keep coming until Mistral's fleet pushes them away."

You look down at your loadout, counting magazines and going the math in your head as far as how many rounds you have left. "We'll run out of bullets before we run out of things to shoot."

Ruby's left hand curls into a fist, but the rest of her body stays focused on looking downrange. "You may be right."

Blake speaks up beside you, and you finally get a chance to look her over. In contrast to everyone else… there's blood on her gloves, forearms, and the handle of her knife. She was fighting Grimm hand-to-hand at some point. "Ruby… we still have civilians."

Weiss gets up to her feet. "We can't put innocent lives in danger. They didn't choose this."

Ruby turns and looks at the three of you, getting irritated. "You don't think I know that?"

You put up a hand when the pair open their mouths to speak again. Both turn and give you a sort of glare as you reply. "It's your call, team lead."

Ruby doesn't say anything for a long moment, thoughts and decisions dancing behind her silver eyes. "We stay and hold this position, the civilians are put in danger. We leave, and this whole city becomes a foothold for the Grimm, and the rest-"

A sudden crack rushes between you and Blake. Blake, with faster reflexes than you've ever seen, pushes and ends up tackling you down behind the same low wall where Ruby is. Weiss drops to the ground and pulls Myrtenaster from the side of the Humvee.

Blake hauls you to a sitting position, looking you over momentarily. "You okay?" Her eyes are cut into slits, like cat's eyes. You've never seen it before. She blinks a few times before they fade back to normal.

You nod, grabbing Thermo next to you, and shouting over to Weiss. "Weiss, you up?"

"Yeah!"

Ruby calls out. "Everyone okay?" More rounds start coming in overhead, but Ruby's rifle once again sings as shots go back out.

You hop up, kneeling beside Ruby with Thermo at your shoulder. With the adrenaline… it feels lighter than usual. "We're good!"

Ruby doesn't respond, but keeps shooting, one shot after another.

Aim down your sights. 250 yards out. Light pressure on the trigger. It's hard to see anything through the dust, still, but you see random flashes of movement through it. That's what you shoot at.

Multiple shots later, your bolt locks back. Reload.

"Loading!"

Press mag release, stab a new one in, press bolt release.

"This is getting worse by the minute." Ruby says to you, her voice low and focused.

"We'll follow you anywhere. Just give the order."

Ruby takes a moment to glance at you, then turns behind her and calls for Blake. "Blake! Get over here!"

Blake appears from inside the restaurant, where she was shooting out from a window. "Yeah?"

"You are going to take the civilians in the Humvee and get them out of here. Fast as you can. We're getting them out of the fight."

Blake spins around, eyes going wide before narrowing at Ruby. "And leave you four here on your own?"

Ruby shakes her head. "It's not up for debate."

Blake doesn't say anything else and looks at Ruby for a long moment. She swallows, closing her eyes before dashing across the street towards the building where the family is.

"Switch, help her get them in the truck."

"Wilco." A bolt of adrenaline surges through you as you stand, the cracks and hisses all around you while you follow Blake's path into the building.

"We're getting you all out of here right now." Blake is already talking to Meg when you dash in.

"How?" Meg is holding Ally on her hip. The little girl is covering her ears with her face tucked into her mother's neck. Sam is by his grandfather, his sight trained on the door and his hand wrapped around the handle of Solution. His knuckles are white, and he's sweating.

"The truck we came in. I'm taking all of you out of the city to the south."

Sam looks at you, then back to Blake. "How will the rest of you get out?"

You speak up. "We're not. We're staying here."

"But… you'll be killed."

You shake your head, forcing a bit of a chuckle. "Not if I can help it." You put your hand on his shoulder, like you did before. "We're huntsmen. Grimm can't kill us." That's a lie. The biggest lie you've ever told. Nothing brought you closer to your mortality than feeling the heat of a bullet go past your face. Or watching a rocket blow up in front of you.

Sam lowers his head, and fumbles with the pistol belt you gave to him. He holds it out for you. "Here… you're gonna need this."

Another forced smile, his words clearly resonating in the back of your mind.

_You'll be killed._

Blake breaks your attention. "Switch, cover our run to the truck. Sam, I need you to carry your grandpa again. Let's go!"

With a glance back at Meg and Sam, you step out of the doorway, turning your body to be perpendicular to the street. Any incoming rounds would most likely hit you before hitting the family. Meg runs out first, Ally on her hip, while Sam lugs his grandfather over to the truck. You backpedal and open the door for him.

"Hey… thank you, sir..."

"I'll see you on the other side, Sam." With the two of them in, along with Meg and Ally, you slam the door.

"Blake, what's going on?" Yang is up above you on a balcony, watching the family getting loaded.

"Ruby told me to get the family out of here."

You step back into the doorway, leaning out and firing back, but you can still hear Blake and Yang's exchange.

"You're leaving? It's just now getting fun."

"Hey… be safe."

You hear Yang laugh… the last thing you ever expect to hear in a warzone. "Yeah, yeah, yeah…." She fires another burst of her machine gun into the dust.

"Yang!" Blake's voice is… angry. Despite the bullets coming in around her, Blake stands there, looking up at Yang.

You turn, watching the pair lock eyes and… the sudden understanding reflect in Yang's. Yang's smile vanishes, her eyes softening when she lowers her walls. "I'll see you when you get back."

"And you'd better be here. No new holes." With one last look and a shaky breath, Blake jumps in the Humvee and fires up the engine. She speeds away, up the road where you came in.

"Switch, get back on the trigger!" Yang is staring you down, knowing that you heard that whole exchange.

It's just the four of you now. Yang up on the balcony behind you, Ruby at the wall, you at the doorway, and Weiss a few yards in front of you behind that abandoned civilian truck.

You pull out the detonator for the explosives that you and Blake set. The dust is starting to clear, letting you see farther and breathe without the nasty particles clogging your throat.

In the distance, you see a large black shape moving. It's the first time you've seen one in person.

_Beowolf._

You and Blake attached streamers out of windows to mark where the mines were, so that you could trigger them accurately. Ruby sees the same thing, and glances back at you, giving you a gentle nod.

20 yards out. You take the safety off of the detonator, watching the light turn green to know that it's armed.

10 yards out. Your hand wraps around the trigger.

5 yards out.

2 yards out.

Squeeze.


	13. OP Albatross: Part 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello again! Thanks for sticking with me up to this point!
> 
> Here's the 3rd part of the reader's second combat mission, OP Albatross. Strap in!

You squeeze the handle, with the thought rushing through your head for a moment that… maybe you didn’t rig something up right. Maybe the blasting cap is a dud. Maybe the det cord-

The explosion is deafening. The narrow streets funnel the sound and shockwave and amplify it. Your ears are ringing... and in pain. You drop to a knee, ducking out of the doorway as you cover them, trying to make the ringing stop. After a moment, it starts to subside, making you blink a few time before reshouldering your weapon and looking down the street at what the explosion did.

The Beowolf is in pieces- smoking, smoldering, and thankfully blocking most of the street. Once again, dust fills the air, obstructs your visibility, and chokes your lungs. Grimm soldiers are scattered around, some disfigured, some crying for help, some not moving at all.

“Targets?” Ruby calls out. She just shouts, not using her radio.

“Nothing! Dust is too thick!” comes Weiss’s reply.

A rumble. Distant. The heavy grunting of a large diesel engine.

_Tanks?_

All of a sudden, the whistle of a large, incoming round fills the street. Almost an instant later, the corner of the building in front of Ruby is blown away in an explosion, showering you, Weiss, and Ruby with red particles of brick and mortar.

“Ursa! Ruby, get out of there!” Yang yells, more of a scream. You can sense the sudden panic in her voice.

“Weiss, Switch, I’m moving to the alley on the left! We gotta get out of this street!” Ruby shouts, while you and Weiss pop out of your spots and begin shooting bursts downrange. Ruby vaults over the wall and sprints across the street… but she doesn’t make it.

An incoming rifle round impacts her left arm, causing the limb to snap back. Her rifle falls out of her hands as she stumbles. She gets back to a knee, temporarily, but another bullet impacts the equipment on her chest and ricochets upward, catching her collarbone on the way. That one causes her to fall on her back in the middle of the street.

“Ruby!” Weiss looks back at you suddenly, your eyes locking. You know what she’s thinking the second your eyes meet. Both of you stand, with Weiss stepping into the center of the street, silhouetting herself and drawing fire. You sprint out to Ruby, grabbing her by the straps of her vest and heaving her out of the street. As you do, she claws at her sniper rifle and pulls it in close.

You barely make it to an alleyway, setting her down as Weiss retreats to the same point. Weiss stays on her feet and keeps shooting down the street as you bring Ruby to a sitting position against the wall.

“What hurts?”

With her good hand, Ruby pushes you away. “No… no medicine in a gunfight, Switch... You make the scene safe first. We’ve… been over this….” Ruby is grimacing in pain, her hand coming up to put pressure on the swelling patch of blood on her bicep.

“Ruby, let me help you.” The blood is dark red, and oozing out. _Veinous blood._ It’s not immediately life-threatening, but she could still bleed out if the wound isn’t tended to soon. “I’m your medic for a reason.”

“You can’t help anyone if we get slaughtered in this alley. You’re a soldier first, and a medic second.” Her head motions to her rifle. “Reload Crescent Rose for me. I’ll let you patch me up when we’re out of this hornet’s nest.” She leans her head back against the wall, softly mouthing the words “Damn it.”

You… fundamentally disagree. You were trained as a medic, to save lives, first. But… Ruby’s your team leader. You obey orders.

You pull a fresh SR-25 magazine out of her vest, and slide it into her rifle. You rest the gun across her lap. “Weiss, where’s our fucking air?”

Weiss is still focusing on her sights and shooting back. “I’ve been feeding Maiden intel as the situation has been developing. JNPR is one their way back, full speed. They’re coming.”

More rounds come in and impact off of the corner of the alley wall, making you flinch. “And how long is that gonna be?”

“From now? Could be 15 minutes.”

Your stomach drops. “We’re not gonna _survive_ 15 minutes! We’re low on ammo, enemy armor moving in, outnumbered-” The different scenarios and possibilities start rushing through your head, making you stop and shake your head, trying to get it all to slow down and stop… but it doesn’t work. All the ways you could be killed, all the ways your team could be killed or captured…

“Switch!” Ruby puts her good hand, bloodied, on your shoulder. “Get a hold of yourself! You’re a huntsman.” She starts to stand, but struggles. You give her an arm and help her up. She takes Crescent Rose in her right hand, painfully resting the barrel down in the crook of her elbow. “We… ow…. move left, out of the alley. Hit and run. Keep the Ursa busy until JNPR shows up.”

Yang suddenly appears in the alleyway, tapping Weiss’s shoulder and taking over the position of shooting down the street. The chatter of her machine gun makes you speak up in order to talk to Ruby and Weiss. You let out a sigh. “Alright. We push left.”

Yang pipes up, glancing back at Ruby. “Are you sure you’re good to move, sis?”

“I’m good. Promise.”

Yang nods. Another incoming tank round impacts the restaurant across the street, obliterating the low wall where Ruby was just a few minutes before.

You move down the alleyway, gun still up. Ruby follows you, then Weiss. Yang stays on that corner, still shooting rounds downrange. It’s a wonder her barrel hasn’t overheated yet.

You turn the corner, looking down the street that runs parallel to the one you just left. Almost instantly, a team of no less than a dozen Grimm open fire on you. “Fuck!” You instinctively duck back in, blinking rapidly when the incoming rounds hit the corner of the building and kick dust into your eyes. “Left is a no-go. Not clear.”

Ruby, right at your back, replies. “We have to make it. That Ursa has us zeroed on the right and this alley is not defensible at all.”

“It’s wide open, Ruby.”

“Smokes and frags. We can’t stay here.” Ruby glances around the other way, looking in the opposite direction of where the Grimm are. “The white building, 50 yards down. We’ll get there and hold it as long as we can. Hopefully JNPR is back by then.” She pauses for a moment, biting her lip and holding her arm again. “Yang, you’ve got frags. Weiss, you’ve got smoke. Switch, draw rounds and put down covering fire. Move and shoot your way back after Yang. We’ll cover you at the building.”

It’s… bold. Risky. But you’re out of other options.

Weiss and Yang both pull different shaped grenades from their vests. You pull a fresh magazine out of your own, swap it with the one in Thermo, and flick the firing selector to fully automatic once again. “On you, Ruby.”

“3.. 2.. 1.. Go.”

Yang throws her grenade around the corner first, then Weiss. You wait for the first one to explode, then turn the corner firing bursts at any Grimm popping up to fire at your team. As Ruby and Weiss pass you to sprint down the street, they tap you on the shoulder to let you know that they’re going..

“Last one!” Yang tells you as she passes, indicating that YOU need to move now. Still firing those short bursts, you backpedal, making your way back to the building the rest of your team is running to. The smoke pouring out of Weiss’s grenade starts to fill the street, effectively making a screen for you.

You hear Weiss’s shout come from behind you. “Switch! We’ve got you covered! Run!”

You start to turn, lowering your rifle. It’s a dead sprint up the road to your team.

Your eyes focus solely on the white building.

That’s your target. Feel the adrenaline.

Run.

Faster.

Bullets pass by you, going both ways. You feel something tug at your leg, but you keep running.

You made it. You run through the doorway at the front, getting behind the cinder-block walls and leaning against one to catch your breath. You look around at the building you’re in. It’s a small hardware store, lined with heavy, industrial shelves that you can use to barricade the door. Some stairs in the corner have a sign next to them saying “More merchandise upstairs.” There’s also an exit sign with a fire escape indicator. That could be useful later on.

You count Weiss and Yang at the windows, firing outward. Ruby is in the corner, with a strip of gauze in her right hand, trying to wrap the wound on her left arm. As the cotton gets blood-soaked, it unwraps, but Ruby keeps going around anyway. You take your backpack off, unzipping it and digging through its contents for the right bandage for the job.

Amidst your search, you hear the noises of the battle in the background. The hardware store is louder than a machine shop, with the cracks of bullets coming in and hitting off of the cinder block structure. At the same time, the talking guns of Weiss and Yang shooting back produces an unnatural rhythm that… you’re starting to get familiar with.

Weiss ducks back behind cover at the windows, dropping an empty magazine from her rifle. “Loading!” She slams a fresh one in, turning right back out to shoot out of the large bay window at the front of the store.

You find what you’re looking for. An Israeli Emergency Bandage, a combination of an elastic wrap, pressure dressing, and a large cotton pad. Staying low and out of the line of fire, you get over to Ruby, and rip the gauze out of her hands. Before she can say anything, you start wrapping the bandage around her arm.

“What are-“ She gasps, bringing a hand up to bite the bridge of her thumb through a glove. Compression bandages are effective, but they tend to hurt. A lot.

“You’re lucky. Missed the main artery. It hit a vein and tore out some muscle, but nothing surgery and physical therapy can’t fix.”

As you keep wrapping, she closes her eyes, opening them only when you finish up with the bandage and move over to take a look at her other wound. “Just… warn me next time, Switch. And you’re still not following orders.”

“You told me to patch you up when we got out of the hornet’s nest. That’s what I’m doing.” You rip open her shirt by the shoulder more, exposing the wound at her collar. As you wipe away both dried and flowing blood, you see bits of bone combined with torn tissue. It’s… not that bad, though. From a life-threatening perspective. Just a graze. You take out another gauze pad, press it against the wound, and secure it to her with the unorthodox but effective strip of duct tape. “Not pretty, but it’ll do.” You pick up your rifle again, starting to stand and help the other two at the window.

“Hey…” Ruby calls to you, starting to get back to her feet. “Thanks, Switch…”

You just nod, stepping over to Yang and grabbing her shoulder to get her attention. “Trade off. Let your barrel cool. Move up to the second floor.”

She lowers her weapon, stepping out and letting you take over. “Got it!” Before she leaves, though, she does a double-take. “You’re bleeding.”

You look back at her, following her pointing finger down to the spot you felt something tug at your leg. “It’s just a graze.” Part of the fabric is ripped out, revealing torn up skin and blood seeping into the pant leg. “I’m okay.”

Take a breath. Refocus. Get switched on.

You lean out from the busted out bay window, looking down your sight. Like Ruby said, it’s a hornet’s nest. Grimm at 75 yards, some moving closer. Start shooting.

Light pressure on the trigger. One shot at a time. Conserve your ammo. Keep them from getting any closer, but get hits where you can.

Bolt locks back.

“Loading!”

Reach down, pull another mag from your plate carrier, stab it in, press bolt release.

“Ammo check! What are we looking at?” Ruby calls from her spot by Weiss. Her left arm isn’t strong enough to shoulder the SR-25, but she has her pistol pulled, and is actively shooting back.

“Three mags, and three for the launcher. Still good on the pistol.” Weiss responds.

You reach a hand down, feeling for what magazines you have left. You only feel two. “Two mags, a lot more for the pistol, too.”

Surprisingly, Yang heard Ruby’s question even through the noise and the distance between floors. “I’ve got 400 left!”

Ruby lets out a pained sigh. “Weiss, where’s JNPR?”

Weiss ducks behind the wall and keys in her radio. “JNPR, RWBY 2. Situation is deteriorating fast. Request ETA.”

You wait, the silent pleas rushing through your head for Jaune or Pyrrha or anyone to come over and request for targets.

Keep shooting, slower, now. You feel a sudden heat in your gloves, and lower your rifle to be held by the sling. You reach down and pull your 1911, feeling the heavy, all-metal curves fit your hands. Thermo is getting hot, so Solution will get some love.

Still nothing from JNPR.

“JNPR, RWBY 2. Request ETA. Where the hell are you?”

Silence over the radios. Weiss shoots a worried glance at Ruby, gently shaking her head. “I can’t raise JNPR.”

Ruby mouths the word you never want to hear a leader use on their own. _Fuck._

All of a sudden, the whistle of a large tank round screams into your ears again, and the ground shakes when the explosion impacts against the building you’re in. You look around, not seeing any damage except for the dust hanging in the air.

“It hit the top floor.” You and Ruby lock eyes. _Yang._

Ruby points up the stairs. “Get up there! We’ll hold the bottom floor.”

Timing it, you sprint up the stairs to see broken pieces of shelving, along with the metal glint of tools scattered over the linoleum of the second floor. The entire wall facing down the street is blown out, leaving a pile of broken cinder blocks where the wall should be. Daylight casts rays through the dust aloft.

“You okay, Firecracker?!”

A grey, dusty shape moves on the floor next to the pile of blocks. “You… don’t get to call me that…”

Rounds start coming in, cracking and pinging off of the pile of bricks. Yang slides to the side, still laying down and using the bricks for cover. You slide in next to her, clearing away some of the dust and debris. “You hurt anywhere?”

“Ears are ringing…” She hauls her SAW out of the dust. “These assholes are about to find out…” She reaches up and brushes a strand of hair out of her face, revealing small shrapnel wounds that leave small dots and trails of blood across her face. “…what happens when I BURN!” Her eyes flare red, her brow furrows, and her jaw clenches as her mouth works into snarl. She pulls the trigger, holding it down and spraying bullets at your attackers, but her fire actually gets _more_ accurate in this state.

“Give ‘em hell, Yang!” You get on the opposite side of the brick pile, laying down as well to minimize your silhouette. Thermo has cooled down enough that you haul it to bear, and restart sending rounds outward at the Grimm.

Now, you actually see the second Ursa rolling up the street. And there’s nothing you can do to stop it.

Bolt locks back. Drop the mag, wrestle the next one out. “Loading!” That’s one more mag left. One in the gun, one in your vest.

When you press the bolt release, you hear Weiss’s voice over the radio. To anyone else, it’s calm and collected, but you can sense the underlying panic, the speed at which the call is made. “This is RWBY 2, calling in the blind to any friendly forces. Situation is deteriorating fast in Abbeyton. Heavily outnumbered by enemy armor and extremely low on ammo. Is there anyone on this frequency who can assist?”

_You may not make it out of here._

_You could die here._

Stop.

The switch is flipped: your job is to find targets, and shoot. Kill where you can. Even as rounds come in, even as you feel their heat and silently pray that each is a near miss… you’re on right now. Not thinking about death. Not thinking about the one last magazine you have in your rig. Not thinking about anything but focusing, and shooting.

“Shot going out!” Weiss shouts, the following thump signaling a round leaving her grenade launcher. It arcs and impacts the tank. You and the rest of the team know that she may as well be shooting spitballs. But… it’s all you have left.

“Shot out!” She calls again, followed up by another thump.

Wait.

The tank… explodes?

Yang is just as confused as you are, stopping her shooting for a second and yelling. “What the hell?”

Over the gunfire, you hear a familiar sound: the beating of rotors against the air. You roll onto your back, looking upward for the source of the sound.

It can’t be JNPR.

It can’t be Phoenix. They don’t carry missiles that can kill tanks.

“Holy shit… it’s Vacuo.” Yang points to two painted attack helicopters hovering at the city’s edge. Both suddenly tilt forward, flying over you and sending a wave of wind at the ground that kicks up dust and fills your nostrils with the smell of aviation exhaust. The oily, grimy stench of the exhaust never smelled so sweet.

Weiss’s voice comes over the radio again. “Friendly air, friendly air, this is RWBY 2 on the ground. Be advised, friendlies on the ground in the blown-out white building. Service all targets north of that building.”

A voice you don’t recognize crackles into your ear. “BRNZ Lead to RWBY. We see you, RWBY. Sit tight. Cavalry’s here. Watch your fire to the rear. You’ve got friendly armor rolling in.”

“Roger that, BRNZ. Thanks for the save.”

“You have your teammate to thank for that, RWBY 2. BRNZ out.”

You and Yang shoot a glance at eachother.

“Blake?”

Ruby shouts up the stairs at you and Yang. “Yang! Switch! Bottom floor!”

You shout back down. “Got it!” With a few bullets still cracking through the air above you, you get up but keep your head low as you join the rest of the team downstairs. When you get there and take your old spot by the bay window. “Switch, you got a mag? I’m completely dry.”

“Yeah.” You reach down and pull out your last one and toss it to her. “That’s my last one.”

A smile suddenly forms on Ruby’s face. “You won’t need them.” She points outside as a black Humvee races in front of the bay windows, and a familiar black-haired Faunus gets out.

“Heard you guys needed a lift.”

 


	14. Patching Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey, everyone! I'm so, so sorry this took so long.... Life hit me like a freight train over the weekend and I didn't get any time to write. This one was a long, tough write... special thanks to flagbearer_or_scouts for helping me get through it and edit it to this point. I hope you enjoy!
> 
> On one more note.... I literally don't know how to thank all of you who regularly comment on this story. Without you, I wouldn't have gotten to this point. I just want to tell each and every one of you that I appreciate, love, and cherish the feedback that you give me, and that's why I reply to every one. Again, I don't know how to thank you, except to keep writing for you! If... you have an idea for a short that you'd like me to write, let me know in a comment?
> 
> Again, thank you, and please keep it coming!

“Heard you guys needed a lift.”

“You are a sight for sore eyes…” Yang smiles at Blake, gently resting a gloved hand against the Faunus girl’s cheek before moving past her. Yang climbs up the back of the Humvee and gets in the turret of the mounted gun. She yanks the charging handle back, spinning the barrel to bear down the street. The .50 cal rounds are _loud_. A huge difference to Thermo and all the small arms of your team.

The two attack helicopters come back around and hover over you and RWBY. Their 30mm chin guns are just as loud as Yang’s, but each of their shots nearly blow through the cover that Grimm are behind. One by one, Grimm start to fall back as two Vacuo trucks roll past you. Bullets are pinging off of them, but each seems to be very well-armored. They stop in front of the Humvee, blocking Yang’s shooting.

“Aww… come on! It was just getting fun!” Yang leans back in the turret and crosses her arms, teasingly pouting. However, she noticeably relaxes at the sudden cover that the trucks give.

Vacuo troops start jumping out of the truck and taking cover all around you. They’re in orange camouflage with black accents. It doesn’t seem like very effective camo in an urban setting, but… damn, it looks very, very slick. One man in particular climbs out, wearing a beret with some form of officer’s insignia that you don’t recognize. His voice is booming, carrying over the sound of the whole battle and instantly taking charge. Everything from his huge, broad shoulders rolled back to his chin up to his already furrowed brow indicate that he, _and he alone_ , is in command.

“Lock and load, men! I want a base of fire. No rounds coming in this way.” He walks around with purpose, directing his men with his voice and walking openly from cover to cover even though he hasn’t fired a shot yet. “Little! Why don’t I hear that gun going yet?” His thick, blonde mane barely moves with his jaw when he shouts.

“Just positioning, sir!”

“Hurry it up, soldier!” He surveys his troops, who are now the ones fighting the Grimm. With a self-satisfied nod, he comes over to you and the team. “RWBY, Major Richards. You all have fought incredibly well today. Your teammate saved your skin.” He eyes Ruby’s wounds. “Well, maybe not all of it.”

Ruby shrugs off the joke. “Thanks for the save, sir. Do you need any help holding this corner? We’re low on ammo, but… if you can restock us, we’ll fight them out of this city with you.”

Richards laughs, a deep, throaty chuckle. “You huntsmen and huntresses are always looking for more fight, aren’t you?” He shakes his head. “We’ve got a small battalion on its way to handle this town. My company can hold out until they get here.” He turns, his voice carrying over his shoulder to his troops. “Or else the Lionheart will kick their ass!”

Several of the Vacuo troops smile and nod, shouting “Hooah!” in unison.

“Alright.” Ruby lets out a breath, starting to relax from the fight. “Thanks again. We owe you.”

Another chuckle. “No, you don’t. Head back to Beacon. Patch yourselves up.”

With a crisp salute, Ruby turns away and gets in the front passenger side of the Humvee. You jump in your normal spot next to Weiss as Blake turns the truck around and heads south, towards the exit of the city.

…

It starts off as a quiet ride, Blake being the one to break the silence: “Ruby. How bad?”

“Switch patched me up and stopped the bleeding. I’ll live, but…” She looks down at her arm, sighing. “This is gonna take a lot of time to heal. Sorry, guys…”

“Ruby. Rose.” Weiss speaks up from the back. “You have absolutely nothing to be sorry for.”

“I’m gonna be out of action for a long time while this heals. I don’t know what that means for all of you…” Ruby’s shoulders are slumped, eyes still looking down at her arm.

“We’ll be okay. We’ve seen enough combat today to last a month in Ozpin’s eyes.” Weiss smiles at Ruby, but Ruby doesn’t respond. Her silver eyes glance down to Crescent Rose in her lap, then out the window at the passing countryside.

Weiss speaks up again. “Ruby… if anyone should be feeling guilty about the way the mission went, it’s me.”

“What do you mean?”

“The civilians. Not having air support when we needed it. Lack of comms at critical times. Wasting those grenade launcher rounds on the tank. I wasn’t even the one who got those helicopters to save us. That was Blake.” Weiss sits back in her seat, letting out a breath. “I let the team down today. It was unprofessional and… I’m not okay with it.”

Blake’s brow furrows when Weiss mentions the word ‘unprofessional.’

Weiss’s hands curl into fists, the fabric of her gloves creaking under the strain. She closes her eyes. “Just… if I was the one holding the rifle when we first saw those civilians, I would’ve shot. Probably would’ve thrown away both Switch’s and Blake’s lives just for that one civilian that the soldier was about to kill.”

“Hey.” You lean over and firmly grasp Weiss’s shoulder, shaking her a bit. “Every single one of us is a soldier. We all said we’d lay down our lives to stop our enemies from hurting people. That includes civilians. If you had to make the decision between civilians and your team.... Blake and I would’ve understood.”

She shrugs your hand off. “Listen…” Her ice-blue eyes, piercing yet solemn, meet yours. “I care about you.” She looks to Ruby, then Blake, and up to Yang. “And I care about you. And you. And you, up there. I don’t know what I’d do without any of you… I’ve always held us to high standards for that very reason, but… I fell short today. I didn’t meet those standards, and that’s all on me.”

Still looking at her but withdrawing your hand, you add, “Then you move on, harder and tougher.”

Her eyes come back to you, then close as she lets out a sigh. “I guess you’re right, Switch.”

“Funny how that works…” You give her an encouraging smile. You’re a rookie with a measly two missions under your belt, but it gives you a brief sense of peace knowing that your words are able to help a Captain with years of experience behind her.

…

Just like Weiss had said on the way back from your last mission, the sight of Beacon looming over the horizon and getting closer is something that you could definitely get used to. The scent of the lush greenery not quite masking the odor of the sweltering tarmac is the first thing you notice, the two clashing scents having become oddly comforting. It means home.

“I’m taking Ruby to the hospital first.” Blake asserts when you roll through the gates at Beacon. Yang waves at the security forces patrolmen guarding the gates, who smile and wave back at the blonde. Nobody seems to have a qualm with getting Ruby to care as soon as possible. Her natural painkillers have worn off, evidenced by the grimace across her face and how hard she’s clutching her arm instead of Crescent Rose.

“Odds are the docs will want to have a few words with you, Switch,” Weiss calls when Blake turns down the road that heads to the hospital situated on base. You feel lucky that you’re at Beacon because of the extensive hospital situated on base, able to treat soldiers and Vale residents alike. Not all bases have that.

“I know… I have a feeling that they’ll take Ruby under the knife. It’s a muscle injury after all.” You respond.

Yang calls down from her turret. “We’ll have that post-mission steak waiting for you when you get out, sis.”

“Thanks, guys.” Ruby turns a bit to talk to you. “Switch, you’re in charge of cleaning Crescent Rose the second you get back. Weiss… you’re in charge of the team. No crazy parties.”

Weiss smirks at the comment, eyes looking out the window as Blake pulls the military truck into the emergency room parking lot. The black Humvee, with the mounted gun and large, chiseled tires, is anything but inconspicuous amongst the normal civilian vehicles.

“And… if you all want to go ahead and debrief without me, while the events are still fresh in your mind… go ahead. I think it’s a good idea.”

Blake shuts the engine off, and you get out to open the door for Ruby and help her out. When you do, Ruby leans on you and speaks into your ear, low enough that the others can’t hear. “Switch… try to ease the tension between Weiss and Blake? They still haven’t resolved what was said the other night…”

Closing the door behind her, you nod, and reply, just as quietly. “I’ll do my best.”

…

When Blake drives the four of you back to the hangar, you get out and drag your equipment back in to your space. Crescent Rose, Thermo, and Solution all go next to each other on the workbench. Your plate carrier comes off first, then your softshell top. Once again, the familiar rush of coolness washes over you when you pull it off. You sit down on your cot, leaving your pistol belt on. You’re… exhausted. Absolutely exhausted. Even the thought of getting up to get your bottle of water from the refrigerator seems like a monumental task.

With a breath and a sigh, you lay back on your cot, fully expecting to fall asleep right then and there. “Am I always gonna feel this gassed after a mission?”

Yang noisily throws her stuff down next to her and Blake’s bunk. “Only if you fight hard enough.”

“Then I must’ve taken on the entire Grimm army.”

Weiss takes a seat on her mattress, shaking her head in weariness as well. “Well… I have a feeling we took on a company. I bet there were at least a hundred more coming up behind what we saw. Anything smaller than a Grimm company doesn’t merit vehicles unless they’re special forces, and I’m pretty sure those guys weren’t.”

“How are you so sure?”

Weiss pauses, and swallows. “Special Forces know better than to drag civvies out into a street to kill them. They either leave them be, or…” Another pause, searching for the word. “… deal with them out of sight.”

“I just can’t understand how other humans think it’s the right thing to murder noncombatants.”

“That makes two of us, Switch.”

Yang looks at both of you, a sudden smile appearing on her face. “On a lighter note… anybody think that that Major Richards was a Faunus? Like, a lion or something? The beard combined with the sort of roar of a voice…”

“That beard looked more like a mane. I’d say he was a Faunus.” Weiss replies.

Blake had been quiet up to that point, and at Weiss mentioning the word ‘Faunus,’ Blake turns her head away, crossing her arms.

Weiss looks over at Blake, her eyes coming down and catching sight of Blake’s guarded stance. “Blake… we should talk about that night…”

Through the bow, Blake’s cat ears flatten down as she lets out a long sigh.

You step forward to stand between the two of them “Hey. Hey… I know there’s some bad blood here, but…”

Weiss nudges you back. “It’s okay, Switch.” She pauses for a moment, closing her eyes and searching for the words. “Blake. There’s a reason why in the Atlas military, officers are not allowed to consume alcohol with their subordinates. But this is RWBY. It works differently here, and you’re not my subordinate.” Weiss’s gaze meets Blake’s again. “Your Faunus traits have saved us and the mission more times than I can count. I… may have called you a White Fang member or sympathizer when I was intoxicated. I need you to know that I didn’t mean any of it…” Another pause. “ _Your_ Faunus traits saved innocent lives today.”

“So that’s all I am, then? A tool, a resource? Not a person or a teammate?”

Yang speaks up. “Blake.. that’s not what she said and you know it.”

“I have to hear it from you, Weiss.”

“You’re not just a means to an end. You’re my teammate. And… it was wrong to generalize you and the Faunus with the White Fang. That’s not what I think. I _know_ that’s not true. It… took a lot of strength and determination to break away from them, Blake. More than I’ve seen in any Atlas officer out there.”

Weiss lets out another breath. You’re temporarily distracted by the setting sun casting long, distinct shadows into the hangar. “What I’m trying to say is that I’m sorry, Blake… for everything I said that night. Like I said, I need you to know that I didn’t mean any of it… After all the combat we’ve been through together… I hope you can believe that. The White Fang hasn’t exactly been kind to me, and I vented that anger on you.”

Blake’s ears perk back up as she cocks her head, slowly uncrossing her arms.

Another pause before Weiss continues. “And… I’m asking and hoping that the trust we had as sisters-in-arms isn’t in jeopardy because of what I said.” Weiss looks down at her feet again, bringing a hand up to grasp her opposite arm.

You see Blake let out a gentle sigh, step forward, and wrap Weiss up in a hug. “We’ve been through mortar attacks, gunfights, air raids, and more together. Nothing changes that. I…. It still stings a bit, Weiss, but… I know you didn’t mean it. I still trust you.”

Weiss tenses at the sudden hug, but slowly relaxes and places her hands at Blake’s sides. “And I trust you, Blake.”

Next to you, Yang smiles, more of a grin as she leans backwards and crosses her arms. “Now, who wants steaks?”


	15. Steaks All Around

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey, everyone! Here's your next fill of GnR!
> 
> We've got a lot of dialogue, here, so stick with me. Thank you so much for the continued feedback! I absolutely LOVE to hear what you have to say!

You're not particularly hungry when Yang asks for whoever wants steaks, but you put your hand up anyway. "One here."

"Alright. Blake, Weiss?"

Blake releases Weiss from her gentle hug, giving the Atlas officer a slight smile. "I'll actually take a steak tonight instead of the usual salmon."

Weiss keeps looking at Blake for a moment, then over to Yang with a nod. "I'll take mine a medium."

"Got it. Steaks all around." Yang is still in her combat uniform, just with her armor and magazine pouches removed. She rolls her sleeves, getting all of the stuff to grill after washing her hands.

You stay where you are, and lean against the frame of the bunks the girls sleep in. Your mind comes to Ruby, who is probably midway through surgery. Back at the hospital, a whole ER team wheeled her away, but not hurriedly or anything. You already stabilized Ruby. As she was scrubbing up, the trauma surgeon asked you a few questions about Ruby's wounds. You gave her the best you could: small arms shot, tore through part of the bicep without a whole lot of bleeding. The other one ricocheted off of Ruby's ceramic armor plate and grazed her collarbone. The surgeon didn't know how long the surgery would take, given your information.

Weiss breaks through your thoughts by leaning against the frame of the bunks, beside you. "What's wrong, Switch? I've seen that look on your face before."

"Just… wondering how Ruby is right now."

"Probably under anaesthesia, not remembering anything but also not feeling any pain. Why? Worried about her?"

You comb through the files in your head, remembering the training that you did for battlefield medicine. All the doctrine, protocols, and boldface you were given bouncing back and forth… you calm your thoughts as you reply. "She's… my patient. She may be my team leader, but we were told that the wounded are our responsibility. Transferring her to someone else just feels… off. Kinda… anti-fundamental. But that trauma surgeon will do more for her than I can."

"Then what's bothering you?"

"I don't understand…"

"There's something else on your mind… and you just said that the trauma surgeon is taking over."

You think for another moment, then let out a sigh. "You're… you're right. There is. But we'll talk about it at the debrief when Ruby gets out of surgery."

"You sure?"

The thoughts start to pile up in your head, remembering the heat of the battle. Yeah, there was something else on your mind. Probably how your survival today depended solely on _luck._ That round you felt the heat off of? An inch to the left and it would've brained you. That rocket? A few feet higher, and you wouldn't have any legs. Any legs or any blood left in your body. That tank round that almost got Yang? Two yards lower, and it would've ripped you, Ruby, and Weiss apart.

 _Stop._ You shake your head, clearing your thoughts. "Weiss, as I said, we'll talk about it at debrief. We always talk as a team."

Weiss nudges herself up from leaning against the rack to lock eyes with you for a moment. "That's right. We do it as a team."

With a bit of a smile, you extend a hand. Weiss just smirks, taking it as you pull one another in and she claps her free hand against your back. "Thanks for everything today. I couldn't have dragged Ruby out without you."

"And you did good. Really good, for it being your second mission. You're really embracing that 'flip the switch' mentality. A lot of Atlas soldiers would've cowered in that doorway and left their teammate out there to die."

You shrug. "Out there… I focus. I mean, sometimes the thoughts start rushing and piling up, but… you kinda silence it, y'know?"

Weiss cocks her head, with concern spreading across her face. "Careful. Make sure you come up for air and talk things out at these debriefs." She pauses, looking away for a second. "Things can pile up too much and overrun you at… very bad times. Like today. It all seemed so, so similar to that thing I told you about with Ruby and the White Fang." She shakes her head, clearing the memory away. "But… keep it up, Switch. You could get your own team one day, if you ever split off from us."

You straighten, jokingly. "Yes, Captain Schnee. I'm sure I will."

Weiss rolls her eyes. "Didn't Ruby want you to clean Crescent Rose?"

"Are you always just gonna go and tell me to clean guns?"

Weiss looks at you, and crosses her arms with a teasing nod. "Yup. Pretty much. You can either clean her gun or bake chocolate chip cookies."

"What?"

"Ruby's still a kid at heart… figured some hangar-baked cookies would be a welcome treat after she gets out of surgery."

You hook a thumb back over to the workbench. "I'm a lot better at cleaning guns than baking cookies."

The scent of grilled meat reaches your nostrils, causing you to salivate almost instantly. Both you and Weiss glance out back to the grill. Blake and Yang are… well, Blake is standing behind Yang, arms wrapped tightly around her while Yang looks over the grill and nurses a handful of steaks.

A smile comes across your face, watching Blake's mouth move but unable to tell word from word. You turn away, heading over to the workbench.

"I don't know how they do it." Weiss is beside you again, setting Myrtenaster beside Crescent Rose.

"Huh?" You slide Ruby's rifle over to you, beginning to take it apart.

"Blake and Yang. Watching someone you love get shot at, and have it be a regular thing. It's bad enough when Winter and I fought together."

"Winter's your sister?"

"Yeah. She's a Major at Atlas Vanguard Attack Group. They do a bunch of stuff that she can't talk about."

"I've heard of the Vanguard. You said you've fought beside her?"

"Not… beside, per say." Weiss now has her rifle pieced apart, and has picked up a small bristle brush, cleaning off dirt and grime. The dirty bolt of her rifle has already blackened her hands. "Vanguard, or AVAG, does a lot of high-risk ops, and they needed helicopter pilots with a decent amount of combat training who weren't afraid of getting shot down."

"Damn, Weiss… that's… brave. Impressive."

"First time I killed a man." She keeps brushing away burnt gunpowder and grime.

"What happened?" You glance down at Crescent Rose, which you've only just started to clean.

"Long story short, mission went sour, got shot down and landed on the side of a mountain. Winter sent two dozen Vanguard just to pull me out, and was on the comms with me, not her troops, the whole time."

"She can do that, though. Vanguard are good, and normally have quick reaction forces standing by for that sort of thing…"

She shakes her head. "Mission was a failure, and we had already engaged the QRF. We lost about a half dozen men and women that day. Two of them were fellow pilots."

You look down again, letting out a breath. "That's tough, Weiss."

"It's also why I'll never go on a mission with someone who I care that much about. I mean, you all are my teammates, and I'd take a bullet for you, but… family and romantic partners… it's different. Your head is unclear, you don't think straight, make irrational decisions… that just scares me. It's why… today was such a big deal for me."

You spray solvent and lubricant over various points on Ruby's rifle, marveling for a moment at the craftsmanship that went into a lot of the parts you're holding in your hands. "Do… we know where the family we got out went?"

"Yeah. I talked to Blake about it. Apparently when she got in contact with Richards, he took responsibility for them and put them in an armored vehicle on the way back to Shade." Weiss lets out a sigh. "I'm just glad they're safe. That you and Blake got there in time."

"It's what we do. We're RWBY." You slide the bolt back into Crescent Rose, closing and pinning everything back into place.

…

You stay in your combat uniform on the way over to the hospital. The dusty boots, thick tear-proof pants, and sweaty blouse aren't exactly the most comfortable or presentable thing to wear, but… Ruby's in a hospital gown. You can bear the gear for a bit longer.

You lean over the receptionist counter at the green-eyed man in scrubs, speaking quietly amidst the conversations in the hotel lobby. To you, hospitals always smelled… odd. Devoid of scent. Like they're _too_ clean. "Excuse me… a teammate of ours was-"

He interrupts you with a smile. "Ruby Rose, from ET-7929. Your teammate got out of surgery about a half hour ago. Room 5H46. The elevator is down that hall, on your left." He gestures out of the lobby area.

"Thanks!"

"Take care, RWBY!"

You turn to the rest of the team as you walk down the aforementioned hallway. "He knows us?"

Blake shrugs. "It's mandated by the higher-ups that we get medical screeners every month. You could say we're regulars. We've only ever been in here twice for trauma situations. Well, three if you count this time."

Yang hits the elevator button, prompting the doors to open with a "ding!"

"What were the other two times?" You get in, feeling the sudden downward jolt as the elevator climbs in floors.

"I'll let these two elaborate on those." Blake shoots a glance at Yang and Weiss.

Yang kinda grins, her hand coming up to scratch the back of her neck, under her hair. "Let's… let's just say I don't really feel pain when I get angry, like a stab wound."

"And I came out of my little incident with this lovely little scar," Weiss says as she brushes some of her hair aside to showcase the jagged discoloration running down part of her face.

The elevator doors open on the fifth floor, where you and the team exit and start going down the hallway, looking for Ruby's room.

Yang: "42, 43, 44, 45… 46. Here it is!" The door is already open, and Yang rushes in, jumping on the side of the bed and wrapping Ruby up in a half-hug when she gets there. "So glad you're okay…"

"Oof…." Ruby barely has time to prepare herself, moving her injured arm out of the way just in time. However, she smiles at seeing Yang and the rest of you, offering a very enthusiastic wave. "Hey, guys!"

Weiss sets the tray of cookies on a rolling table beside Ruby's bed. "Brought you some cookies."

Blake holds up a plastic container with the steak that Yang cooked early. "And the celebratory steak if you want it."

Finally, you step over to the other side of the bed, leaning the soft rifle case bearing Crescent Rose within it. "Yang also thought you'd like to have this at your side while you recover."

Ruby's smile brightens even more. She reaches over towards the rolling table, struggling and pawing at it like a cat going for a ball of yarn. "You guys are so, so awesome…"

Yang chimes in. "How's the arm?"

Ruby shoves a cookie in her mouth, hardly waiting for it to be completely chewed before responding. "It's good. They've got me on a ton of pain meds, which…" She grins down at her hand. "Have… me a little loopy…"

Weiss closes her eyes, crossing her arms but still smiling at Ruby. "Told you we shouldn't have brought Crescent Rose, Yang."

"Oooo…. Gimme!"Ruby leans over and reaches for the rifle bag like she did for the cookies a second ago. You react quickly, pushing it out of her range before she retracts and pouts.

"How long until you're back to 100%?" You ask.

"Um…" Ruby brings a finger to her chin, looking at the ceiling, and still holding another cookie.

A voice from the door responds to your question. "I can tell you that."

Ruby drops the cookie in her hand, beaming as recognition flashes through her eyes at the voice behind you. "QROW!"


	16. Aftermath of Albatross

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time for the real debrief! Sorry this chapter took a day longer to get out than normal. I've been working double-duty on this fic and another I have in the works for the RWBY Big Bang! I hope you like this! Please keep the feedback coming. I love it, and I love you guys! I'm still doing my best to respond to every single one.

“QROW!!”

You turn and see an older man, with black hair spiked to the rear, an unshaven chin, and red eyes. As soon as he enters the room, you can smell alcohol on his breath.

“Qrow? What are you doing here?” Yang can’t help but smile at his entrance.

“Passing through on something I can’t tell you about yet. Figured I’d stop by and check in on you kids.” His voice is quiet, and gravelly.

You look back to Ruby, who is grinning and bouncing in her bed, reaching/gesturing for Qrow. He shakes his head with a genuine half-smile and steps over to the bed where Ruby is. As if Ruby is actually a kid, he tousles her short hair. “How’s the arm, Red?”

“It hurt before but not now… They gave me something that took the pain away really, really, really fast.”

Qrow lets out a single chuckle. “That would be morphine, Ruby.”

“Ohhh. Well, everything’s fuzzy, and it’s a lot of fun. I can’t wait to get shot again!”

You see Blake bring her hand up to her mouth to avoid from laughing at that. Truth be told, you find it very hard to suppress your own laughter.

“Okay, you’re spaced, kiddo.”

Ruby reaches up and gently touches her finger to Qrow’s nose. “Boop. I’m Nora Valkyrie…”

Blake suddenly walks out of the room, followed by Yang. You suddenly hear the two cracking up in the hallway.

“Well, since she won’t remember this, I’ll tell you two.” Qrow straightens up, and looks at you and Weiss. “She’ll be out of it for at least two months. I talked to the surgeon who patched her up. She’s damn lucky. The collarbone was a graze. Even though the bullet cut down to the bone, there was no damage other than flesh. The other one cut through a lot of muscle, but apparently no nerve endings.” He leans down to Ruby again, who grins wide up at him. “With plenty of physical therapy, she’ll be back to full strength after those two months.” He reaches into the folds of his jacket, pulling out a silver flask and taking a swig from it. So that’s why you smelled alcohol on his breath.

“Are… you drinking? In a hospital?” You ask.

Weiss puts the back of her hand into your chest, telling you to stop. “He’s always drunk. Don’t get too deep into it.”

Qrow shrugs, screwing the cap back onto the flask and tucking it away one more time. “I gotta run. I’ll catch you cubs later.” He turns around and starts walking to the door, then stops at the threshold. “Oh. And a little thing from the Ice Queen.” He sets a folded and sealed envelope on a table beside the door.

After he’s out of earshot, you pipe up. “Did… some random, old drunk guy just call you Ice Queen, and give you a letter from yourself?”

Weiss shakes her head, and Ruby responds. “Nope! He called Winter the Ice Queen. Pretty sure he has a secret crush on her….”

Weiss’s face fills with red as she blushes. “Ruby! Spare me the thought of Qrow and _my_ _sister_ together.”

“Qrow and Winter, sittin’ in a tree, K-I…”

Weiss picks up a nearby pillow and hurls it at Ruby.

You raise your voice a bit more. “Okay… can someone tell me who that was?”

“His name is Qrow Branwen. He’s close with Ozpin, Ironwood, Goodwitch… all of them. Nobody actually knows what he does though. What unit he’s a part of, where he came from, nothing.”

Ruby clears the pillow off of her face. “Who cares? He fights Grimm, and he’s awesome!”

Weiss leaves your side and walks over to pick up the envelope Qrow left. She breaks the classified tape on it, pulling out the documents while Yang and Blake walk back in.

“Whatcha got there?” Yang tries to read over Weiss’s shoulder as she separates the different pages in her hands.

“It’s… from Winter.” Her eyes dance from row to row of writing, speedily reading through the message. “It’s a mission of hers that she’s requesting help with. Covert stuff.” She opens her mouth to say something else, but pauses as her eyes seem to narrow on the page, before she folds it up and tucks it away into her uniform. “We’ll talk about it after we debrief the last mission, when Ruby is a little less…” She glances at your team leader, who is currently making airplane noises and ‘flying’ another cookie. “… out of it.”

…

“Was… I really flying chocolate chip cookies as if they were airplanes?”

“You sure were, sis. Wish I could’ve recorded half of it.” Yang helps Ruby into Blake’s car. Ruby’s left arm is in a tight sling, part of a black jacket covering the bandages that conceal her wounds.

Ruby shakes her head, sitting down in the rear passenger seat beside you, with Yang climbing into the front. “I don’t remember any of that..”

Yang chuckles. “But we do.”

Blake fires up the car and pulls out of the parking lot, driving back to the hangar. Weiss decided to stay behind because she had been up later the night before keeping Ruby company. Yang swapped with her this morning, and now the whole team, minus the Ice Queen, is picking her up.

A glance at your watch announces that it’s 1324. Early afternoon. You had just eaten before coming, but… odds are that Ruby is starving. You’d probably debrief while she ate.

Blake slows the car and turns onto the flightline, passing rows of helicopters and cargo planes glinting in the sun. The air conditioning in the car keeps the four of you relatively cool, but outside, you can see waves of heat emanating up from the tarmac. Just another sweltering day at Beacon Field.

…

Weiss sits at a table across from Ruby, watching her eat a plastic carton of fresh strawberries. “Ruby, I wouldn’t have made you that sandwich if I knew you were just going to eat a whole tub of strawberries.”

Ruby starts to answer with her mouth full, a muffled gurgle at first before she swallows and repeats her statement. “I’m the one with a hole in my arm and a temporary ban on painkillers.” Ruby licks each of the fingers on her right hand, continuing after each is clean of red strawberry juice. “Debrief time?”

You nod, taking a seat at the table next to Weiss. “Debrief time.”

“Call Yang and Blake over here. Shouting hurts my chest after the surgery.” Ruby closes the empty strawberry tub and pushes it to the center of the table.

“Blake! Yang! Rally up.” You hear the racking of weights and the shuffling of bedsprings as a sweaty Yang and a relaxed Blake take a seat at the table.

Ruby leans back in her chair, gingerly shifting her bad arm in the sling. “Alright. Any takers on starting?”

“It’s… not as fresh in my mind as it was yesterday, but… I can talk for a bit.” Blake speaks up, glancing at Ruby, then Yang. “To the point where I pulled the civilians out, anyway.”

“Go for it.”

Blake sits forward, leaning her elbows on the table and letting out a breath. “Okay. We… inserted into Abbeyton without any contact, except with the knowledge that Grimm troop transports were headed to the ports. Late morning, I think. We weren’t expecting contact for a bit longer, even as you, Ruby, told me and Switch to plant explosives along the main roads in order to stop vehicles from coming through. After… 4 anti-armor mines, I heard a woman scream. At that point, Ruby and Weiss had established overwatch from atop one of the buildings near our insertion point.”

Blake pauses, thinking the words over in her head as you see her eyes bounce across the room. “Switch and I moved towards the source of the noise, which Weiss identified as one of two smaller Grimm squads that were scouting the town. They found civilians, and by the bit of information Weiss gave us… were planning on just killing them there. Switch and I had suppressed weapons, but didn’t know the location of the second team. At that point, comms went buggy, so Switch and I took the initiative. We attacked, and caught the Grimm by surprise. I can confirm three kills for Switch, and another three for me.”

That’s how you remember it. As Blake recounts the mission, you also go through it in your head. The images of every shot you took as you killed the Grimm soldiers flood your mind for a moment. The two shots as the first guy crumples. The next shot causing another’s head to snap back, lifeless. The final three shots connecting with the target’s plate, causing him blunt pain as the third one blew a hole straight through his clavicle and the blood vessels there.

“There were four civilians. A mother, her elderly father, a teenage boy, and a younger girl. We grabbed them and moved them back to Yang and tasked Maiden with doing a thermal scan that would hopefully identify where any more civilians that we didn’t know about were.”

You remember Sam- the boy who wanted to join the military and be a huntsman like you. He was strong for his age, especially with how he carried his heavier grandfather up the street. He also knew that if you had to carry him, Blake would be the only one who could shoot. Smart kid.

“We established a strongpoint near the Humvee, and I remember hunkering down for a fight after Ruby and Weiss came back with the fact that the Grimm had found the bodies.”

Ruby puts a hand up, stopping Blake. “Everyone else… that’s where the mission went sour. I wanna hear thoughts. Reactions. How everyone felt.”

Yang shrugs. “I’m always ready for a fight. I talked to the little girl. I think her name was Ally, but I can’t remember. I gave her a smile and told her she’d be okay. Switch talked to the boy. I think he wanted to come out and fight alongside us.”

You nod, looking at Yang and then over to Ruby. “He did, but I told him his family would need him inside. He persisted, though. I gave him my sidearm and told him that he had to stay inside.”

Everybody goes silent for a second, all eyes turning to you.

Yang breaks the silence. “You…. What?!”

Your brow furrows as you shift backwards a bit, unsure of all of the questioning eyes looking at you around the table.

“Switch… let me get this straight…” Ruby locks gazes with you. “You… gave a weapon to a kid? A teenage kid, in a war zone?”

“Yeah. I did. He demonstrated proficiency with it, and he had a point. If we couldn’t stop the Grimm, his family was helpless.” You fidget in your chair, very uncomfortable at the sudden shift in tone.

Weiss speaks up. “Y/N. You’re shaking again.”

You look down at your hand on the table. It’s shaking, not very noticeably but shaking nonetheless.

Weiss places her hand on top of it, momentarily stopping it. Her hand is cold to the touch. “Do you understand why this is a big deal?”

You shake your head.

“When you gave that kid a weapon, you made him a combatant of the Grimm War. A _legal_ target. We don’t do that. We defend civilians. While they’re under our protection, we don’t arm them and have them fight for us.”

“What was I supposed to do?”

“I admit… it’s a tough call. You all know me and civilians… in your shoes, I’m not sure what I would’ve done. But… the _law_ states that we can’t arm civilians, even if we are special forces. Just keep that in mind next time.”

You nod, glancing at each team member before back down at your hands, which are steady again.

After a moment, Blake continues. “The rest… was a straight up firefight. I took far left on the line, and killed a decent number of them in close quarters. I heard a lot of radio from you guys locking down the main street. Standard call-outs, if I remember right. And I… thought I heard something about Y/N almost getting tagged by a rocket?”

Ruby smiles for a second. “Yup. He’s pretty lucky.”

“After a while, JNPR was cleared hot on the city, and Weiss called in air support. We fell back under the cover of their guns, and so did the Grimm. We regrouped, reloaded, and dug in again. I remember the situation deteriorating much faster, and that’s when Ruby called me over and told me to get the civilians out of the city.”

Ruby nods, confirming Blake’s story. “Alright. Switch, take over.”

“Wait. Ruby…” Blake cuts in before you start.

“What is it?”

“Back… when you told me to get the civilians out… there was a split second where I questioned orders. Where I didn’t want to leave you guys behind.”

“Anyone would’ve felt the same way, Blake.”

“I... I know. I just… was thinking about that and wanted to get it off of my chest.” You search Blake’s face for the familiar markers of emotional distress: widened eyes, playing with her hands, maybe her cat ears folding, but Blake gives away nothing. “Just know… when crunch time hits, and decisions have to be made, I’m with you all the way, and I trust your judgement.”

Ruby reaches up with her good arm, putting her hand on Blake’s shoulder with a silent, reassuring smile. Blake gently smiles back. You lean back in your chair again, using a knee to tip backwards. The hangar is much less hot than the flightline outside, especially with the doors closed.

“Switch, you’re up.”

You take in a deep breath and let it out, gathering your thoughts about yesterday. “So… after we got the civilians out, we held our position for a bit longer until we saw Beowolves advancing up the street. The explosives we planted were more than capable of punching through their armor, so we blew them and blocked the street. The dust that the explosives kicked up provided visual cover for their tanks, though. We started taking tank rounds, and Ruby made the call to move left, out of the street that we were in.”

You think about the tank for a bit, how you didn’t even see it when its explosive shells started going off around you.

“That’s when Ruby got hit. Weiss drew fire and gave me cover while I ran out and dragged Ruby out of the street.”

At hearing that, Ruby looks down at her arm in the sling. “I don’t even know what happened there. Luck gave out on me, I guess.”

“It could’ve happened to anyone. I dragged you out to that alley, and Weiss covered us the whole way. I tried looking at you immediately. It was an easy fix, but you pushed me away and… coached me through a rather emotional moment.”

Weiss’s voice cuts in. “You were pretty high-strung for a moment, Y/N.”

You look down at the ground, suddenly… guilty and ashamed at how you lost it, even for that moment. “It just… it all got to me for a second. How screwed we were. Outnumbered, low on ammo, up against armor. JNPR not being there was the breaking point.”

Ruby cocks her head. “What changed? How’d you snap out of that?”

“I don’t really know. Part of it was you putting your bloody hand on me and just telling me to suck it up, in a way.”

“You’re getting better at mastering that state of mind.”

You shrug, coming back to the moment where you lost it in front of the team. Thoughts start to pile up on top of you. It was a sign of emotional weakness, wasn’t it? Where you couldn’t hold it together? “I guess.”

Weiss shakes her head, eyeing you and giving your hand a gentle squeeze, causing those thoughts to slow down and dissipate as you bring your attention back to the team. “No, Ruby’s right. I saw you when we were in that hardware store. You patched Ruby up nearly perfectly under battlefield stress, and then got back on the trigger. Technically, you were also wounded, but that didn’t stop you.”

You glance down to the leg where the graze caught you, just now remembering it.

Yang grins, giving you a punch in the arm. “And you were kicking some major ass.”

You smile back at her, coming to that ‘last stand’ moment just before you and Yang saw the Ursa tank explode. “I was impressed by that little show of anger you gave us, Yang.”

Yang half-chuckles. “Those guys couldn’t hit the broadside of a barn. Sure, I got a little pissed off and flared. No big.”

“If you say so. I didn’t expect it.”

You go to move your hand from the table and sit back again, and that’s when you realize that Weiss’s hand is still on top of yours, squeezing it. You look at Weiss, watching her head come around and her ice-blue eyes locking with yours for a moment. Her gaze flies down to her hand on yours, which she quickly pulls back into her lap. Her lips mouth the words “Sorry…” as she looks down at that same hand. And… the very beginning of a red tint comes across her cheeks as she blushes.

“Anything else about Albatross on anybody’s mind?” Ruby scans the team, eyes silently asking but also reassuring if anyone had anything. You shake your head when she passes you.

Yang leans forward, heavy on the table. “Yeah. Anyone else a little pissed off at the fact that Ozpin sent a 5-man team against a Grimm _company_? There could’ve been 200 shooters. Intel was way the hell off.”

“I know. That’s something I plan on talking to him about. But… c’mon. Ozpin makes mistakes, but… I don’t get the feeling that this is one of them. We’re still alive.”

“Because we got lucky that Blake found a sizeable Vacuo force that just happened to have air support.”

Weiss jumps into the conversation. “Well… what if Ozpin was the one who got in touch with the Vacuo troops in the first place? Maybe that was the quick reaction force that we initially requested? They were well-armed and ready for a fight.”

Silence. Yang sits back again, thinking Weiss’s words over.

Blake is the one to break it. “I… actually agree with Weiss here. You heard Major Richards. You all put up a good fight. Maybe… and… this is just a maybe… he put us into that situation knowing that we’d hold out longer. I mean… you all fought until the last magazine. Realistically, not many soldiers would do that.”

Silence again.

Ruby is looking at her good hand, which is tracing shapes on the table with a fingernail. “If… I can, I’ll see if I can get a better answer out of him. But as I said before the operation, Colonel Ozpin wouldn’t just send us on a suicide mission. He’s careful about these things.”

Yang crosses her arms, a scowl coming across her face. “Let’s just make sure that we know the big picture before we go buzzing off on the next one.”

 


	17. Welcome to Atlas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As promised, a weekly update! I took some time off for the holidays, but I'm back at it and hopefully getting some good chapters out in the next few weeks. Huge shout-out to flagbearer-or-scouts on her help in this chapter. Also, thank you so much for all of the feedback!

Yang sits there, arms still crossed as she moves her gaze from Ruby to Weiss. Weiss pulls an envelope out of her jacket pocket, opening it and throwing about a half dozen sheets of paper onto the table. “Well, our next mission might not be from Ozpin.”

You nod, looking at the pieces of paper and trying to make sense of all of the Atlas military jargon.  “Yeah. Qrow dropped off that thing from your sister.”

Ruby cocks her head, and shifts over to get a better look at the documents. “You got something from Winter? I thought she hated pulling you into Atlas operations ever since you came to be a Huntress.”

Weiss stands up, walking around the room to pace. “All I know is that Winter is a very powerful officer in the Atlas military. She practically runs half of Vanguard and has almost everyone in Special Operatives Unit on her friend list. Hell, she _is_ a Special Operative. She wouldn’t be asking for our help if she didn’t need it.” She closes her eyes and shakes her head. “Some of this just doesn’t make sense. Atlas’s resources can’t be so strained that they can’t deal with this on their own.”

You finally finish reading the pages that Weiss had laid out. The request that Winter had given to Weiss was for RWBY members to act as ‘urban reconnaissance,’ as she put it, and get close to a warehouse where White Fang were believed to be storing weapons. The team would have to find some way to get close enough to confirm weapons, explosives, or military equipment before Vanguard- the main force- could kick the door in, and put a stop to the operation. There was also the possibility of high-ranking White Fang personnel to be there.

It doesn’t make sense. What exactly would you be doing? Why would Winter be requesting Huntsmen and Huntresses on this?

Yang shakes her head and turns away from the table to get up. “I don’t like it. Us under Atlas command, fighting with Atlas troops, in an Atlas city? We’re too monopolized there. Ozpin gives Huntsmen and Huntresses free reign in the field for a reason. I mean, I’m always up for a fight, but…”

Blake looks away, sighing slightly. “I’m with Yang. Not that I don’t trust you, but… being completely under somebody else’s control in a black op isn’t my idea of a milk run.” She brings a hand up to grasp her opposite elbow, as Yang shifts over to wrap an arm around Blake’s shoulders.

“Blake and I are out this time. Sorry, Weiss.”

“That’s okay. I understand.”

Ruby turns in her chair to face Weiss, glancing down at her arm in a sling and leaning against the table with the other. “You still want to go help your sister, don’t you?”

A faint smile crosses Weiss’s lips, her icy gaze meeting the silver of Ruby’s. “I do. Even though this isn’t our typical line of work.”

“Obviously I’m out of this one, too. But I think this is important to you, so… If you want to freelance this, I’m not gonna stop you.”

“Thanks, Ruby.”

Weiss leans forward and begins collecting the pages to fold back up. You stay sitting there, going back and forth between the choice in your mind. On one hand… being under Atlas command will be unfamiliar. Unnatural. On the other hand, Weiss is your teammate. And you’ve fought alongside Atlas troops before. You’re all in this fight together. Against the Grimm, against the White Fang, everyone. You open your mouth to speak. “I’ll go with you, Weiss.”

She straightens up, brushing a strand of hair out of her face and putting that hand on her hip. “You sure?”

“I can’t let a teammate head out into the field on her own.”

A smile creeps across her face. “Thanks, Switch. Get your gear together. We’ll leave on the next cargo plane for Atlas.”

…

A gentle shake against your shoulder rouses you from your nap. You move slowly at first, easing out the aches and pains that come with the uncomfortable position that the canvas benches put you in. Funny how napping on cargo jets seem to tire you out _more_.

“Welcome to Atlas, Switch.” Weiss is one on knee in front of you, hand still on your shoulder from waking you up.

You close your eyes again, hard for a second, blinking the sleep out. You sit up and roll your neck, feeling all of the pops and cracks work themselves out. “I slept through the landing?”

“Not quite. We’re on approach now.” Weiss steps up to a window towards the nose of the plane, which has been your only source of natural light through the whole four hour flight. Aside from Weiss, your fellow passengers have been two armored Humvees, and a pallet of large black crates housing who-knows-what. “Figured you’d want to be awake for the landing.”

You swing your legs under you and stand. The plane is rocking and jolting, and you struggle to take the steps to get over to Weiss at the window. You brace yourself against the wall of the jet and gaze out of the window.

Atlas is a snowy landscape, having mountains and ridges capped with white, while the airfield that you’re flying into is clear, with only patches of not-yet-melted snow covering the grass surrounding the runway.

“You grew up here?”

“Yeah.” Weiss is smiling down at the landscape. “Well, not here, exactly. The manor is 17 miles north of Atlas proper.” She glances at the Atlas patch on her sleeve.

You still look out the window. “It’s beautiful. I bet it’s cold, though.”

Weiss shrugs. “The cold never really bothered me.”

“So that’s why they call you Ice Queen.”

She chuckles. “No, that was a nickname they gave me during basic training, and it just happened to stick.”

You lean against the edge of the plane and cross your arms, your attention now falling to Weiss. “Got any funny basic training stories?”

Her eyes still dance across the landscape below, and you just now notice how much she _looks_ like the Atlas countryside. White hair, blue eyes… beautiful. She cocks an eyebrow and shifts her gaze to you. “You first.”

You nudge yourself off of the wall of the plane, as the wall is starting to make you feel cold, despite the thick fleece of the jacket you’re wearing. “Okay... let’s see. There’s a lot of good stories from basic… at one point, the dumbass you see before you was told to change into shower gear within the span of two minutes. Normally an easy task. We were in those huge tents that they put the flight into for the second phase of basic.”

“Huh. Vale’s basic is a lot different than Atlas’s. Continue.”

“So… I realized I forgot my shower bag by the time we had fallen out to head up to the showers. It was a big deal with my instructors. I nudged a buddy, and ran back into the tent to grab it. I saw figures in the dark of the tent, and thought they were other basics that hadn’t fallen out yet. I pushed past one of them and said ‘excuse me, peeps.’ And… that’s when I realized that it wasn’t another basic. It was an instructor.”

The plane suddenly jolts in a bank, sending you sideways into the wall. Weiss can’t help but chuckle at your sudden clumsiness.

She reaches a hand down to you and helps you to your feet. “So… what happened when you called the instructor a peep?”

“There was no more ‘sir’ or ‘ma’am.’ It was ‘peep,’ for the rest of basic training. I had to respond to questions with either ‘Yes, peep’ or ‘No, peep’ instead of ‘Yes, sir/ma’am’ and whatnot. They also PT’d us in our shower gear for a good hour after that. That’s also how I ended up calling an officer a ‘peep’ which… actually came down on the instructors, and not on me. It was a major who reamed my instructors for commanding me to respond to superiors in that way.”

“Sounds like you dodged a bullet with that one.”

“Well, you’re an officer, you tell me.”

Faint tinges of red start to appear on Weiss’s cheeks, and it’s not from the cold.

“So… it’s your turn.”

Weiss arches her eyebrow and brushes a stray lock of hair out of her face. “For a basic story?”

You lead her over to the canvas bench you were just laying on, and take a seat. “Yeah.”

Almost to your surprise, she takes the spot next to you and sits down, crossing her legs and somehow getting comfortable against the metal and cloth. “Well… how about the time I lost my rifle?”

“Fire away.”

“Not sure about Vale’s basic training, but at Atlas, they issue you a fake rifle, which you protect with your life. We can get into the mechanics of the training later, but… this dolt here,” She points to herself, “… lost her rifle during the second week. I had to show the sharks that I was ‘worthy’ of getting it back by building primitive weapons.”

“Primitive weapons?”

Weiss shakes her head and chuckles at the memory. “Yup. Started off by making a wooden spear, then went up to a wooden sword, a bow and arrow, and once I had those done, I had to fight with trees to demonstrate my prowess with them.”

A smile creeps across your face. “The Great Captain Weiss Schnee had to fight trees with a wooden spear?”

She looks over at you, leaning away a little with a bit of a shrug. “At least I didn’t call one of the sharks a ‘peep.’”

The plane suddenly lurches upwards, hard, causing you to fall forwards. Weiss’s hand on your shoulder stops you from smacking your face on the floor.

“You need to learn how to work in an airplane, Y/N. We’ll be jumping out of these things soon enough.”

You straighten back up, shaking your head as a teasing smile tugs at the corner of your lips. “Yes, peep.”

…

“Room, tench-hut!”

All of the Atlas personnel in the room come to rigid, stiff attention when Weiss walks into the briefing room in front of you. “As you were, soldiers. Thank you.”

Everyone relaxes, sitting back in their seats or restarting the conversations that had been cut off.

“Holy shit. It’s been a while since I’ve seen people call the room to attention.”

Weiss nods in reply to you, her gait noticeably more stiff and professional since the two of you walked in. “General Ironwood runs everything very strict. Very punctual, too.” She glances at her watch. “Winter is going to be here any second.”

You look around the briefing room, taking in the dim lighting casting shadows on the maps on the walls and computer screens at the front of the room. It’s laid out like an auditorium, but each row of chairs also has a desk in front of it. It reminds you of a college lectinar, save for the men and women in military camouflage. Each has a patch on their sleeve that reads “Vanguard.”

“Now that you’re highest ranking, that means that you have to call the room to attention for your own sister?”

Weiss nods, her eyes on the door after another glance at her watch.

You look at the door, then back to her when she suddenly stands up and calls in a booming, resonant voice: “Room, tench-hut!”

Muscle memory and gut reflexes instinctively bring your heels together and your cupped fists to the seams of your pants, just like the rest of the soldiers in the room. But… your mind flits back to Weiss. You’ve never seen her command attention quite like that before. The whole room obeyed her even without knowing who she was.

Another officer closely resembling Weiss stands at the threshold of the door, both hands behind her back in a confident and commanding pose. Her uniform is neat and pressed, bearing the Atlas markings of a major. Most of her white hair is pulled back into a tight bun, with only part of it cascading down the right side of her face. Her voice, however, is much deeper than Weiss’s, and the same ice-blue eyes survey the small crowd as she addresses it.

“Thank you, Captain Schnee. Take your seats, everyone.”

 


	18. Weiss and Winter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello again! Here's the next chapter, pumped out rather quickly since I won't be putting anything out over the weekend. I hope you love it!
> 
> Shout out to flagbearer-or-scouts and lostgamer64 for their input on this chapter! And shout-out to ALL OF YOU for leaving feedback and giving this fic a chance!

You and Weiss find a seat in the front row. You relax into the cushions, but give your full attention to Winter.

She strides into the center of the room, standing at a modified form of ‘parade rest’ with her hands still clasped behind her back, feet shoulder-width apart. “Good evening, Vanguard.”

The mumblings and varied responses all sounding like “Evening, ma’am” respond from the crowd.

Winter steps out of the way of a large screen unrolling from the ceiling. The gentle blue glow of a projector powering up reflects off the white plastic as the lights in the briefing room dim. “The time hack for this upcoming operation is 43 hours out from this moment. Command is calling it Operation Homestead.”

The mention of the name brings a gentle murmuring throughout the crowd, along with a snicker or two.

“The game plan is simple. Slide, please.” An image clicks onto the screen from the projector. It’s a satellite map of what appears to be a small suburb. “Intel has intercepted lots of communications regarding the establishment of a weapons cache in a warehouse at these coordinates. Build, please.” Numbers indicating a location using MGRS coordinates pop up on the screen.

Weiss takes out a pad of paper from one of the cargo pockets in her uniform and scribbles down the numbers. It’s a good idea- but you don’t have anything to take notes with.

“Now, before I go any farther, this op is different in the fact that these are not Grimm targets. They are White Fang. Trained and well-funded, but not uniformed soldiers. All are Faunus, and some have superior traits to humans. With that being said, they are NOT combatants if they are unarmed.” She pauses, letting the silence linger for a moment. “Again… they are only a target if they shoulder a weapon.”

Weiss scribbles a few more words on her pad of paper.

“Slide, please.” The next page comes up. It’s an order of battle. Divides different units, designates chains of command, establishes callsigns for each mission element. “Point of contact for this operation is myself. There will be three different fireteams that will take down the structure once schematics are found, and once we confirm weapons or military equipment inside.” She scans the crowd again, looking for certain faces, and locking gazes with different soldiers as she goes. “Rodriguez, Fletcher, and Schmidt. Your teams are on the block for the takedown. I’m designating you all as Specter 1 through 3. Weaver and Dumont, your teams are the quick reaction force. Callsigns are Wizard 1 and 2, as usual. Specters 1 and 2 will assault the central structure from both the front and rear doors, while 3 provides security and watches their backs. Capture when possible, but fire your weapons if you have no other option.”

Another pause. You see something change in Winter’s eyes. Her chest expands slightly, and her eyebrows fall slightly lower, closer to her eyes. You recognize that look. It’s… pride. Pride and an intense care for these soldiers. “Everyone… I know this isn’t our normal mode of operation, and I know I’m throwing you into the unknown. Ironwood gave me the chance to turn this assignment down, but I told him that Vanguard _will_ get this done. As some of you may have noticed, I requested operators from Vale’s 44 th. Captain Weiss Schnee and Specialist Y/N will be assisting you on the ground, as callsign RWBY 2 and 5.” She looks at you and Weiss, the corners of her mouth turning up slightly in a confident smile. “Both the tactical and strategic operating procedures will be forwarded to the fireteam leads. I will be down in front to answer questions, and I will remain in my office for the time after. Good luck, Vanguard. Heads down and chins up. Dismissed.”

Weiss puts the pad of paper back into her cargo pocket and stands, her eyes glued on Winter as the crowd of Vanguard starts exiting the room. She fights her way around the small groups forming to her sister.

“Winter!”

Winter turns her head at hearing Weiss approaching, a small frown of disapproval on her face.

Weiss quickly corrects herself. “Er... Major Schnee, ma’am. It’s… a pleasure to see you again.”

“Likewise, Captain. One moment.” Winter takes a sealed folder from the Atlas soldier standing next to her. “If you could leave us, Chief, I’ll follow up with you later.”

With a nod and a hushed “yes, ma’am,” he leaves and links up with one of the groups of Vanguard heading out.

Winter starts to head towards the door once everybody leaves, walking with her hands still clasped behind her back. “It’s good to see you too, Weiss. How was the flight?”

“I, uh…” Winter’s shift makes Weiss stumble for words. She joins her older sister on her left side, and following the rank structure, you also take Weiss’s left. “It wasn’t bad. Got a little turbulent just before the landing.”

“Good. I’m sorry I brought you out on such short notice.” Winter’s eyes are always straight forward, never turning to look at Weiss.

“Speaking of which… why are we here? You’ve got the whole of the Special Operatives Unit at your disposal for a job like this.”

Winter lets out a long breath, and stops. She unclasps her hands and puts both of her black-gloved hands on Weiss’s shoulders. “I didn’t brief this to the squad, but… Intel is telling me that _he_ is going to be there.”

Weiss’s eyes go wide. “ _The Lieutenant?_ ”

Winter just nods back at Weiss, understanding and the kind of natural telepathy that sisters have flashing in both of their eyes. The subtle nod from Winter. The quickened pace of Weiss’s breath.

“A year and a half…”

“I know, Weiss.”

You stand there, crossing your arms in confusion. “Wait… who is this Lieutenant guy?”

Weiss slowly turns to look at you, and that’s when you realize just how big of a deal this is for her. You may not know this Lieutenant, but… surely, Weiss and Winter do. Her voice is soft when she replies to you. “All you need to know is that he is the White Fang second-in-command. And…” Her gaze falls back to Winter. “ _We are going to take him down._ ”

…

“So… the Huntsman and the Huntress themselves, eating here in our very own mess hall?”

You look up from your meal at the voice, seeing a man dressed in a white t-shirt and grey pants, neatly bloused into black leather boots. Large block letters that read “VANGUARD” stretch across his chest, distorted by his huge build. On his left and right are another man and a woman, both toned almost as much as he is and wearing the same clothing.

“Yup! That’s us.” You offer a gentle smile, and the thought crosses your mind that you’ll probably be fighting with them tomorrow. “Have a seat.”

“Thanks.” The trio set their trays down, sliding down into the chairs across from you and Weiss. Surprisingly… Weiss is still looking down at her plate. She decisively cuts through a piece of steak and guides it to her mouth, then stabs a piece of steamed broccoli with her fork.

You’ll talk to her later and figure out what’s going on. “Does Atlas always have steak at mess dinners? Vale’s dining facility isn’t even half as good.”

The woman grins, being the one to respond as the other two have already shoved pieces of steak into their mouths. “Almost every Wednesday and Saturday nights. It’s good, so long as you like your steak well done, and only well done.”

She has a point. Your steak is brown all the way through, no pink or red to speak of. It also crosses your mind that between debriefings and this dinner… you’ve been having steak a lot recently. And you’re starting to get slightly tired of it. “I think it’s a great meal. Steak before a mission was never a bad thing,” you reply, biting back the urge to make the phrase sarcastic.

“Yes, sir. I agree with you on that.” She pauses. “If it’s not too out of line… why did they bring soldiers from Vale’s 44th on this next assignment? Not that we don’t appreciate y’all being here, but… they don’t normally send Huntsmen and Huntresses on simple domestic takedowns. Hell, they rarely ever send us on those.”

“Classified, soldier.” Weiss sounds… as hostile as the day she first met you. Secretive. Untrusting. Her eyes are still on her plate, wolfing down the meal.

All three Vanguard stop chewing for a second, eyes on Weiss. You put your knife down for a moment.

The awkward pause lasts for a moment or two. The woman is the one to jump in again. “Well, I’m sure if I need to know, I’ll be told.” Her gaze falls back to you. “Sir, I didn’t happen to catch your name in the briefing…?”

You reach a hand across the table to shake her hand. “It’s Y/N. The team calls me Switch.”

“Sergeant Mary Schmidt. I’m the noncommissioned officer over Vanguard Fireteam 3. We’ll be Specter 3 during Homestead.” She points to the two next to her. “This is my door-kicker, Truck,” the bigger guy nods to you, chewing more food, “and my medic, Corporal Tristan Guida.” The man on the other side of Truck offers a wave.

“Yo, wait, Sarge…” The bigger guy, Truck, swallows a large bite and sets his silverware down. “If he’s a Specialist and you’re a Sergeant, why are you calling him ‘sir’? Last time I checked, E-5 is higher than E-4.”

You open your mouth to respond to the question, since it’s actually one you’ve gotten before, but Weiss speaks up first. “Private, you learned Vale’s ranks in basic training. You should know that a Specialist in Vale’s military is not a rank that relates to Atlas’s pay grades. Specialists are autonomous, rankless members of Vale special forces.”

“Sorry, ma’am. I didn’t remember.”

“That’s your own problem. Figure it out.”

It’s not Weiss’s words that bother you- it’s her demeanor. When she stared at Truck, there was no emotion on her face. Just a cold, calculated, almost reprimanding tone. And as much as you want to address it and ask Weiss what’s wrong right there, on the spot… you know better than to call an officer out in front of her subordinates. You wouldn’t hesitate if it was just around RWBY, but here? Where rank means so much more? No. You keep your mouth shut.

You finish up your meal while the Vanguard trio in front of you talks amongst themselves. Weiss doesn’t say anything to you. In fact, she’s been extremely quiet after her brief exchange with Winter.

Who is the Lieutenant, and why is it such a big deal for Weiss?

“Thanks for the talk, sir. We’ll see you in the field tomorrow.” Only when you see all three troops start to stand up do you pull your attention away from your thoughts about Weiss.

“That you will.” You smile again, then add, “Keep your heads down.”

Schmidt calls back over her shoulder as they walk away, pumping her chest out when she does. “And your chins up!”

…

Now, this is the life. On a beach in Vacuo, in a lounge chair with a cold bottle of beer in your hand, as the red Remnant sun slowly sinks below the horizon. You could get used to this…

Something moves your foot. As if someone is hitting it.

“Get up, Y/N.”

_Damn it… that was a dream._

Weiss’s voice cuts through the fog and dark of the small room you’re staying in. You open your eyes to faintly see her form. “You gonna sleep all day? C’mon. Time hack is in an hour, and you’re _not_ going to miss it.”

You sit up, shaking your head in a futile attempt to clear some of the grogginess from being woken up. “I’m up… Just give me a moment.”

Weiss walks over to the doorway, flipping all of the lights on. The sudden light stabs your eyes, and maybe it’s the grogginess, or maybe you’re just irritable today, but… your temper flares. Mildly. “What the hell, Ice Queen?”

“I don’t plan on spending my whole morning watching you get ready for a mission. Out of bed, Switch.”

You swing your legs over the edge of the bed, getting your feet under you and standing up. The room is part of a small section of barracks reserved for temporary “guests” like you and Weiss. The Vanguard soldiers call it “The Hotel.” Yours is not much bigger than that of a college dorm, but it’s enough for you and your gear. Weiss slept in the room directly across from yours.

Speaking of her, she’s leaning against the door of your room, arms crossed, and… in civilian clothes? No military markings whatsoever.

“Why are you wearing that?”

“Mission plan changed for you and me. We’re in civvies. Concealed weapons. No armor.”

_No armor?_

“Why?”

“I’ll brief you on the way. Get switched on and spun up.”

“Fine. I’m on it.” With a glance in the mirror noting just how much of a mess you are, you open the gearbag you brought with you, and start getting ready.


	19. OP Homestead

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Your next chapter! Please enjoy. 
> 
> Winter kicks off OP Homestead... and things don't go as planned.
> 
> Edit: Just realized we're over 1000 hits! Thank you all so, so much!

You’re sitting in the driver seat of a large black SUV, leather seats sapping heat from your back while you look out the windshield. Evidence of the cold Atlesian winter is everywhere, with newly falling snow making the roads slick and wet. The car is parked in the parking lot of a large furniture store, the front wheels a foot away from the low curb that you could easily drive over to get onto the main road if you need to.

Your target is across the small-town two-lane road: a white warehouse, with three loading docks facing you. Two of the bay doors on the docks are closed up, but the third one is open with a semi-truck backed up to it. There are no names or markings on it, and despite your best effort with Weiss’s binoculars, you can’t seem to see what the workers are loading into it.

“Okay… I know we’re looking for evidence of military equipment and White Fang operations, but I can’t see a damn thing from here,” you say to Weiss, who is sitting in the seat beside you.

She is wearing an open waist-length coat in light blue and lined inside with red velvet, revealing a tight shirt that if not for a piece of black lace in the center, would have a sweetheart neckline. That shirt is tucked into a pair of neatly ironed pants in grey, capped with a thick belt that you know is supporting a pistol, concealed underneath her jacket. She is leaned back in the seat, one leg up so that her ankle rests against her knee. Her pants end into a pair of calf-high boots.

“Keep looking.” She commands, her fingernails tapping in succession on the armrest of the passenger seat. Her eyes are glued on cars coming up and down the road.

Your thoughts reflect back to the briefing that Weiss gave you. She harshly described your role as “hunters.” Any vehicles rabbiting away from the warehouse that happened to slip past Atlas forces would be your responsibility. You would also be the only eyes into the warehouse that the strike team would have before they went in.

Solution weighs heavy on your hip as you sit up more in the driver’s seat. You shrug off a chill, scanning down both streets and catching the sight of a red coupe getting into the turn lane for the warehouse.

“Weiss.”

Her head whips around, causing her ponytail to follow and carry over her shoulder. She snatches the binos from your hands, looking through them at the car. “That’s him.” She lowers a hand to be able to speak into her cuff, where a microphone for a radio is. “Winter. Positive identification on the Lieutenant. He’s entering the parking lot now.”

“Copy all, Weiss. All teams go to ready status. We’re about to go in.”

You glance back at your rifle case and your trauma bag in the back of the SUV. If all goes well, you won’t need either one. You shouldn’t even need Solution on your hip. But… something in the back of your mind is nagging at you, whispering at how unorthodox this all is. How… unprepared you really are for a fight. No armor, no vests, hardly any ammo for your weapons. Things start running through your mind. Things that could happen. Things that are likely to happen. You start processing scenarios in your head, assessing how you’re going to react to each and every one.

Your hand pushes your jacket back, pulling Solution out of its holster. Slowly, you pull the slide back and let go, chambering a round. You slide it back into its holster and drape your jacket over it.

“Weiss, why is the Lieutenant such a big deal to you?”

“Doesn’t matter, Switch. Just know that if I get the shot at him, he’s mine.”

You frown, and your brow furrows. “Remember what Winter said. We can’t shoot unless they shoulder a weapon.”

“I’m not under Winter’s command. I’m a huntress. I have free reign.”

“You can’t just kill him if he’s unarmed…”

“I know that, but you don’t know what he’s done to the Schnee family.”

“Well… whatever he’s done, I wouldn’t let his actions change who I am.”

“I’m not you, Y/N.”

“This isn’t you, either.”

She doesn’t say anything more. She just looks at the car pulling into the warehouse, still tapping her nails against the armrest.

“Look, I know the past few missions have been rough on you-“

She interrupts you. “We’re done talking about this.”

You clench your jaw, getting slightly frustrated but keeping your cool on the outside. Your eyes fall back to the car across the street. You squint, trying to get a good look at the two men who just got out of the car. One is wearing a shirt with cut-off sleeves, showcasing black tattoos down his extremely muscular arms. The other man is in a long black coat, and red hair styled under a pair of horns.

Wait a second. You recognize him. “Is… that Adam Taurus?”

“…What?!” Weiss brings the binos up to her eyes again, then lowers them slowly and talking into her cuff once more. “Winter, Adam Taurus is here. I say again, Adam Taurus is in play.”

“We hit the jackpot. All teams, be advised, there are now two high-value targets in play.” A pause. You can almost feel Winter weighing the new information in her head. “Execute. I say again, execute Homestead. All teams are clear to engage.”

Weiss leans forward, eyes fixated on the two men who are talking to the workers on the dock. All of a sudden, two black SUVs like the one you’re in now turn into the parking lot at high speed, tires squealing and leaving matte black streaks on the pavement. You know a third one is coming around the rear to cover any escape that direction. Both Adam and the Lieutenant dart opposite directions, with the Lieutenant jumping back into the car and Adam running into the warehouse. The red car starts to take off, with one of the Vanguard SUVs turning to try and ram his car. Silently, you will the laws of physics and mechanics to allow the impact to happen…

… but it never comes. The red car swerves in just enough time to miss the SUV, which slams to a stop as Atlas forces jump out. One soldier brings his rifle to his shoulder, intending to shoot out the tires. He fires a single shot, and the puff of dust that rises from the concrete beside the speeding red coupe lets you know that he missed.

“Damn.” Weiss throws the binoculars down to the floor. “Let’s go, Switch! Punch it!”

You turn the key of the SUV, sparking the engine to life. You drop the gearshift into drive, and punch the throttle. Both rear tires break loose and spin, but it’s enough to get you moving forward as you mount the curb and turn onto the main road.

You still see the red car, and you mat the pedal to the floor. The modified small-block V8 roars in response, pushing you and Weiss back into your seats. You hang onto the steering wheel and weave around cars. You wish that your SUV had sirens and lights to get them out of the way. But your attention is on that red car. From this moment, that’s your mission. _Flip the switch_.

You’re gaining on him. Little by little. A lurch announces the sudden upshift of your engine. A glance at the speedometer. _113 mph._ On a two-lane road.

Two cars even in front of you. Dive right. One of the tires drops off of the road and into the grass on the side. You miss the cars, and keep the accelerator pressed even as turning back onto the road makes the SUV fishtail. Countersteer, and you’re back on track.

The red car is less than ten feet away now. Vehicle takedowns aren’t something you were taught in specialist training. But your mission is to _stop_ that car. You can do that.

Five feet away. Keep holding the gas.

You’re… not really sure why you do it. It might be instinctual or it might just make sense in your mind. When your front bumper is even with his rear, you yank the wheel to the left. The mass of your SUV hitting his coupe causes the car to turn, and slam into a guardrail off to the right. _Hard._ Your airbag deploys as your car connects with his. It slams into your face, but catches your momentum at the same time. You keep pressing the gas even as both vehicles skid against the metal, locked and twisted together. You’re slowing down.

Okay, easy. Let off the gas. Get ready to fight.

Both cars lurch to a stop, with hot steam rolling out from under their hoods. The stench of burnt oil makes your nostrils flare and your throat momentarily constrict. The airbag deflates, and you can see the Lieutenant still sitting in his car.

 _Get him_.

You claw at your seatbelt. It’s not releasing. Pull your knife from your pocket and cut it. Hand your knife to Weiss. Try your door handle. It doesn’t move. You turn, and brace yourself against the steering wheel and seat.

Kick. It gives a little bit. Kick again. It gives a little more. You grunt as you give it a final kick with your foot, which knocks it ajar just enough that you can squeeze out of it.

You run around to the driver’s side of the red car, reaching through the broken window and grabbing the Lieutenant by the collar. You pull, hard, and haul him out of the car and to the ground. He’s… _heavy_.

You try to turn him to his back, but he gives you a shove and reaches behind him. You see a flash of silver when his hand swings back around.

_Knife._

You jump backward, getting out of the way of the slash as he regains his feet. He’s taller than you, a bigger build… you’ve fought bigger men like him in training. C’mon. Remember your training.

He tries closing the distance, but you step backwards again, remembering the knife. You keep dodging, looking for an opening. He slashes, you lean out of the way. He stabs, you step aside. You’re faster than him.

He raises his arm as he lunges forward.

_Now._

You close the distance and get inside his circle as the knife comes down in a vertical cut. You bring your arm up to intercept it, looking to trap the knife with your opposite arm when it connects.

The next thing you feel is the serrated section of the blade ripping through the thick fleece jacket you’re wearing. Then… the _cold_ blade searing through the top of your forearm. It’s a feeling you’ll never forget.

No pain. Not yet. You’re still fueled by adrenaline.

The Lieutenant wastes no time as you recoil from your wound. He swings his opposite fist around, connecting with your jaw and sending you stumbling backwards. You fall, and the back of your head connects with the guardrail.

The next few moments… they’re foggy. Stars are circling in your vision, you can’t seem to blink the blurriness away, and the warm, wet feeling covering your arm is spreading.

You groan, and roll, trying to find your surroundings and get your bearings.

With your good arm, you prop yourself up enough to look around. You see two figures struggling… Weiss is fighting the Lieutenant. Weiss is smaller than you. That’s not even a fair fight. But she’s holding her own. Her ducks, dodges, and weaves keep her out of the Lieutenant’s grasp for now. Weiss’s jacket flares open. Her sidearm isn’t there…

There it is. On the ground, at least ten feet behind her. Maybe it got knocked out of her hands.

You try to get to your feet to help her, but you only fall down again, the world spinning around you from the pain at the back of your head.

“C’mere, princess…”

You look up just in time to see him grab her by the throat and throw her to the ground. Weiss gasps for air as that happens, but nothing seems to come. Both figures crash to the ground, with him scrambling to mount on top of Weiss, straddling her torso.

She struggles to throw him, using techniques that you’ve seen before in your training.

But he’s too big, and stays on top of her even as she squirms and tries to escape.

He raises the knife and brings it down. Every fiber of your mind is screaming to get up, to go over and help her, but your body is struggling to respond. It’s slow. Not moving. Like you’re stuck in ice.

Weiss catches the stab, gripping his wrists to slow the blade before it makes contact. The Lieutenant puts both of his hands on it and leans forward, using his weight to overcome the strength that Weiss has.

The tip of the blade is an inch away from her heart.

Weiss clenches her teeth, sweating and pouring every ounce of strength in her body to keep the knife away. But it’s a losing fight. The knife slowly creeps closer to that white shirt you had admired just a few moments before.

You can’t let this happen. Try to stand again. Crawl over there. _Something._ But your body isn’t responding. _You’re not fast enough._

The Lieutenant lets out a deep, throaty laugh. “Finally… I get to kill _another_ Schnee….”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm... so, so sorry to do this to you all....


	20. OP Homestead Pt 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *smiling and waving* Please don't hurt me because of that last chapter... But here's the response. The resolution of that suspense. Well, sorta.
> 
> To all of you... thanks for the feedback from the last chapter. I simply love hearing your reactions and comments on what I'm writing. Please keep them coming! I respond to all comments.

_Damn it._

The tip of the knife sinks lower. It’s barely starting to fray the fabric of her shirt.

_Do… something!_

You can’t seem to get a grip on anything, physically or mentally. You feel your racing heartbeat in time with the rhythmic but painful throbbing in the back of your head, and with the slice on your arm.

Everything is still spinning and unsteady. You can’t stand, or even see straight. But you still have your pistol, concealed beneath your jacket. Draw it.

Muscle memory pushes your jacket back, your hand wrapping around the grip of the pistol and shrugging it out of its holster. Its molding feels alien to you. No matter what you do, you can’t get your hand to wrap around it like the way you’ve practiced thousands of times before. The Lieutenant is still right in front of you, but in your state, with the way the sights refuse to perfectly align, you could hit Weiss. Maybe… you can think of something else?

Weiss’s sudden gasp and cry of pain echoes in your ears as you bring the gun to bear with one hand. The tip of the knife pierces her skin, causing a small circle of red to form at the spot. Panic as the sweat in your palms makes the gun slip even more. Your left arm is bleeding even more now from the adrenaline. All you can focus on is Weiss. You have to get her out of there somehow, but you can’t risk shooting her…

The SUV. Its front is facing you. Maybe you can blow the radiator. Distract him long enough to get Weiss some time?

Fuck it.

In the past, you’ve always been trained to gently squeeze the trigger with the pad of your finger, but right now, you desperately yank it with the whole of your index finger. The shot rings out, followed by the hissing of hot water and steam. A thick cloud of white spurts from the radiator, completely covering the pair that was just fighting.

Engine coolant splatters across your face and rains all over you, causing the wound on your arm to burn when you bring it up to shield your eyes. You can’t help but cry out at the added sensation of pain. But beneath it all, you pray that you did _something_ to help Weiss. Everything in your mind is begging that when you open your eyes… Weiss’s shirt isn’t stained with any more of her blood.

That prayer is crushed when the gun is suddenly ripped out of your hands, and you feel a hard punch to the gut. It makes you double over again… and the only sensation you feel after that is the Lieutenant’s hand gripping your throat, squeezing it.

There is no worse feeling in the world than the feeling of being choked. No matter how hard you expand your chest or how wide you open your mouth, no air comes in. Your vision begins to fade as the blood vessels heading to your brain are constricted. You grab at the Lieutenant’s hand, a final attempt to pry yourself away even as everything starts to darken.

“I guess you didn’t learn the first time.”

“Neither did you…” Weiss is behind him, and wraps her arm around his neck, grabbing him and squeezing.

 He releases you, and you slump to the ground, trying to breathe again. The sensation of your first breath is equivalent to drawing air while cotton balls are stuffed down your throat. But still… relief washes over you. Relief that _Weiss is alive._

You look up to Weiss again, sweat still pouring down her brow as she squeezes the Lieutenant harder. He’s stronger, but Weiss has position. You see the same frantic struggle in his eyes that he was just soliciting from yours. The veins popping out at his temple give evidence to the success of Weiss’s technique. He throws elbows but can’t land any of them. He reaches back to scratch at Weiss’s face, or to grab at her hair, but nothing works. It’s not long before his movements slow down, and the knife falls out of his hands, clanking to the ground.

Weiss drops him, letting him slam forward on the concrete. She falls to her knees, exhausted from the fight. Her chest heaves, sucking in as much air as possible. That’s the most common mistake that people make when fighting on the ground: not breathing as much as they should be. Her hair dangles in front of her face, having come undone from its ponytail in the fight. Still coming down from adrenaline, her dilated eyes dart around, looking for her sidearm. Still on her hands and knees, she crawls over to it on the asphalt, and picks it up. Unsteadily regaining her feet, she stumbles over to the unconscious man on the ground, and puts the barrel of the gun against his head.

Your sight sharpens, your senses coming back to you, and you find the breath to call out to her, still with a shade of alarm in your voice. “Weiss! What are you doing?”

The barrel still against his head, she looks up at you, still breathing hard and her eyes beseeching you. “He deserves to die, Switch.”

“He’s unconscious. Captured. You can’t legally do this.”

She looks back down to the Lieutenant on the ground, and lets out a long, painful sigh. Her voice is laced with malice, her tongue biting at each of the words with venomous precision. “He won’t pay enough in the legal system. He still has his life.” A pause. “This… this is for Whitley.”

“I… I know it hurts…” It’s... getting harder still to breathe. Your hand comes up to your stomach, to the place where it felt like you were punched.

When you look down at your hand, it’s dripping with crimson.

That wasn’t a punch, it was a stab.

Your gaze trails over to the knife, and only now do you realize that it’s coated in red… with your own blood.

Weiss shakes her head and opens her eyes. “You don’t understand, Switch. Has your very own kid brother had his throat cut in cold blood? _While you watched?_ “ She presses the gun barrel harder against his head, causing an indentation to form. “This man… this monster… give me a reason to spare him. Give me one good reason, Y/N.”

You turn your hand a bit so that she can see your hand. “Weiss…”

She follows your gaze down to your hand, and her breath catches when she sees your blood. Her pistol immediately goes back into its holster, and she’s beside you in superhuman time. “On your back. Now.” She guides you down to lay on your back, then brings a hand up to her cuff to speak into the microphone there, her voice all of a sudden cool and calculated once again. “RWBY 2 in the blind. The Lieutenant is secure but I’ve got a man down. I need a medic ASAP.”

The pain is starting to set in: a deep, penetrating tear that flares all the way through your gut. You grimace, both of your hands covering the stab. Blood flows slickly through your fingers, contrasting with the sweat from the fight. The lump in your throat hardens, your mind frantically searching through its files, trying to remember how to treat this injury.

You still have the comm in your ear, and you can hear Winter’s reply. “Understood, Weiss. Wizard 1 is en route and speeding there now. What’s his status?”

As you pressure your wound, Weiss’s delicate touch prods and opens the clothing around it. “Urgent and unstable. Losing lots of blood. The quicker the better, Winter.”

A pause before the next reply from Winter. “I’m chopping a helicopter to get him to an Atlas hospital.”

The throbbing in your ears is getting worse. You’re putting in so much more effort to keep pressure on the wound, but it’s only getting harder.

The sensation of something warm and soft against your cheek temporarily takes your mind off of it. You turn and open your eyes. It’s Weiss’s hand. Her voice is calm, collected, and soft. Comforting, almost. “Y/N. You stay awake, okay? I’m getting you out of here and patching you up, but you are going to help me. Got it?”

You nod against her hand, saving your breath.

Weiss suddenly leaves your side for what seems like hours. That slippery, hot flow from your stomach doesn’t stop, and the falling snowflakes hitting your face subdivide the minutes into seconds.

You hear the sound of your own trauma bag being ripped open. Something no soldier ever wants to hear. Your mind flashes back to the soldiers that you didn’t get to on your first mission. Them and the bodies covered by black tarps.

“Switch. Eyes open.” Weiss deepens her voice, trying to get packets of hemostatics and gauze open.

You suck in a deep breath, and let it out in a groan at the fiery pain spreading through you. But as Weiss commands, you open your eyes to look at her. For a moment, those beautiful ice-blue eyes of hers lock with yours before falling back down your trauma bag. She sweeps her unkept hair back behind her to get it out of the way, having nothing to tie it back up with.

You have to know. You have to ask. “Weiss…. No bullshit. How… mm…. how bad?”

She stops for a split second, glancing at your stomach and back up to your eyes. “You’re gonna be fine. There’s a lot of blood, but you’re gonna be fine.”

Weiss’s words are comforting despite the growing pool of crimson and warmth under you. As you feel it spread… it’s both alarming and relaxing. It’s your own blood, but its heat is very welcome as opposed to the cold asphalt and pavement.

“You… you better not be lying to me.”

“Maybe I am, maybe I’m not. You’ll just have to stick around to find out.” She pauses, and you feel her lifting your hands away. “This may hurt and I’m sorry.”

Weiss’s once delicate hands are now aggressively pressing and shoving hemostatic gauze into the wound cavity, putting pressure down on you at the same time. You clench your jaw and reach for the closest thing to you, which… happens to be one of Weiss’s sleeves. Your fingers curl in the fabric as you pull.

“Damn it…”

“I’m sorry, Y/N. But I have to do this to help you. Eyes on me.”

Your vision blurs even as you look at her. Deep down in those files of your mind, you know that your body is entering shock. Think about it- you just experienced a traumatic injury, you’re in a cold environment with very little insulation, and you’re losing blood. Shock.

You feel your eyes start to close.

“Hey.” Weiss nudges you with her knee as she kneels over you. “None of that. Stay with me.”

It’s not for lack of trying. You’re fighting to stay awake for her. But… that’s when you realize just how damn… beautiful she is. Maybe it’s the fact that you’re in shock. Maybe it’s the fact that she’s currently your guardian angel, working to keep you alive. Maybe… she’s just always been that beautiful.

You squeeze the fabric of her sleeve, trying to get a better grip on it despite how much blood is coating your hands right now.

Fight, Y/N. Fight to stay awake. You can hear the screech of tires. Hurried voices and medical personnel. A helicopter. Your vision may be going dark, and your mind may be blurry, but your hearing is still there. Maybe you’re being moved, maybe you’re not. You can’t really tell.

“I’m going with Switch on the helicopter. I’ll deal with the Lieutenant later.” It’s foggy. There’s an exchange of voices, some you recognize and some you don’t. Only Weiss’s voice truly cuts through the mist. “Winter. _I am going with him._ ”

…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hang in there and stay with me! This is only getting more fun.


	21. Starting to Melt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey, everyone. Sorry this is so short. Life has been kicking my butt recently and this is all I had the inspiration and time for. Even then... I feel like it's not a bad chapter on its own. Special thank you to all the people who keep reading and giving me feedback. You do more than you know.
> 
> Also, shout out to flagbearer for all the help she gives me on these chapters. She's an angel.

It’s not the beeping of the heart rate and breathing monitors that you notice first. It’s not the soft, gentle glow of the room with the curtains drawn, lights off, and door closed.

It’s the scent. The scent of antiseptic mixed with air fresheners and some sort of perfume that’s both woody and flowery, but… distinctly feminine.

You’re in a hospital.

Your eyes ease open, scanning the area around you at first. You’re propped up in a hospital bed, with linens coming up to your waist. You have something similar to a hospital gown on, though it feels more like a robe without anything tying it shut. You have something that feels like compression shorts protecting your modesty underneath.

There’s something on your left hand. An IV, and an oximeter on your finger. Nothing you haven’t seen before. Actually… looking down at the IV… whoever put it in did a terrible job. You’ve done better under stress.

There’s a window just to the left of your bed, beyond arms reach, the blinds drawn shut. However, you can catch glimpses of falling snow outside, through the cracks. The rest of the room is simple. Homey. There’s cabinets that probably house some kind of medical supplies or linens. To the right of them, a door that leads to your own personal bathroom. The rest of the space on the wall is taken up by a counter wrapping around the far right corner. In the near corner, to your right… there’s a big, reclining lounge chair, where Weiss is leaned back with some kind of book that you can’t understand the title of.

There’s… music in the background. Orchestral. Lots of strings, piano, and female vocals. It’s not your taste, exactly, but… it’s good music.

“Hey, Snow Angel…”

Wait. Did you just say that?

Weiss looks up from the pages, blinking in surprise before recovering. “Switch, I’m gonna pretend the drugs were talking just then.” She sets her book on a little table beside her where you see that it doesn’t contain words, but scores and legers. It’s a music book. She smiles at you, standing up and coming over to the bed. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m…” You try to sit up, only finding excruciating pain in your gut when you do so. Weiss’s hand lays against your chest, nudging you back down.

“Don’t try to sit up.”

“I… got stabbed, didn’t I?”

She cocks her head, still with a half-smile across her face. “Yeah. A four inch blade. Straight to the gut, nicked a major vein. That’s why you bled so much.”

“Damn. I got lucky.” You follow your chest down to the slightly parted robe, easing the linens down enough so that you can see your stomach. It’s a mess. A long incision slightly to the left of your navel is now sewn and stapled shut, and bandaged lightly. So that’s why sitting up was so painful.

“What you did was… impressive, Y/N. Brave. Distracting the Lieutenant with that shot, avoiding shooting him while saving my life in the process.”

The events flash back through your mind. The fight with the Lieutenant. Avoiding the knife and hitting your head on the guardrail after he slashed your arm. Watching the knife creep closer to Weiss. The shot. The Lieutenant charging and stabbing you.

It hits you. He _did_ stab Weiss. “Wait, he got a piece of you, too…”

Weiss reaches up and pulls back the collar of the shirt she’s wearing, revealing a criss-crossing of sutures high on her chest. “It wasn’t bad, Switch. Barely broke the skin.”

You lay back a bit, relaxing when you see that her wound is barely more than a nick. “So… how long until I’m back in the fight?”

She shrugs, shifting over more and taking a seat on the railing of the bed. “Couldn’t say. You’d have to ask one of the docs. But it looks like you and Ruby won’t be doing much fighting in the coming month or so.”

You sigh at the fact that without you, your team would have one less gun. Even though you’ve only been with them for a short while, that thought _scares_ you.

Weiss pipes up as the thought sits on your mind. “Hey, by the way, you owe me.”

“For what?”

She points a teasingly accusing finger at you. “There’s blood all over my favorite jacket.”

“Hey, at least it’s mine and not yours.” You pause, thinking about the words that just escaped your lips. Weiss’s smile fades for a second, her eyes locked with yours before darting away. “Well, cold water and soap works pretty well. Try hydrogen peroxide, too. That tends to help a lot.”

“Wait, what?”

“Tell you what. I’ll get it out for you. It’s my blood after all.”

She smirks. “Deal, Switch.”

You look away, scanning the room again and noticing an empty vase over on the counter.

“Weiss, I kinda wanted to ask you something…”

Her smile fades. “What’s that?”

“I was… in and out of consciousness when that squad got to us. And I heard you say, well, more like tell Winter that you were going on the helicopter with me. And… I guess I wanted to know why? Since… the Lieutenant was your mission?”

Weiss brings a hand up to grab her opposite arm. The faintest tinge of red begins to coat her cheeks. “I, uh… don’t know, exactly.” She pauses, eyes bouncing around the floor, looking for excuses. “Hey, the nurses wanted me to get them when you got up…”

She starts to stand, but you shift up and catch her arm before she does so. But you’re gentle, keeping a loose grip so that she can pull away if she wants to. “That’s what the call button is for.” You reach over and press the little button on the railing of your bed. You lower your voice a bit, gazing at her and just willing her ice-blue eyes to lock with yours again. “Weiss…. Please….”

She closes her eyes and lets out a long breath, shaking her head. “You-You’re my teammate, Y/N.”

Your grip softens even more, as it suddenly hits you just how _badly_ you want a different answer. You hadn’t given it much thought before but after that last mission… something was different. For you, anyway. But for Weiss? “Is… that all?”

She keeps her eyes closed and brings a hand up to rub one of them, her voice even quieter as she looks for the words to respond to you. “I…”

There’s a knock at the door, followed by the sound of the handle turning. The door swings open, and a man in scrubs walks in carrying a clipboard. “So… Y/N. Stab wound, staying in intensive care for the night. Emergency contact here is a Miss Weiss Schnee, that about right?”

You release Weiss completely, nodding at the nurse. “That’s me.”

“Great.” He opens one of the cabinets and takes out a pair of blue latex gloves, slapping them on. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to take a look at the staples, make sure they’re holding. That okay?”

“Yeah. Sure.” Your answer is… hollow. Your mind is on the conversation you and Weiss were just having. Silently, you hope that you get the chance to continue it.

…

**Thanks for reading, all. I promise I'll have a longer chapter out by the weekend. Let me know what you thought?**


	22. Eggs and Cookies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey, everyone! Happy holidays! No, this isn't a holiday-themed chapter but I wanted to say that. More down-time, more healing in this chapter. Hope you enjoy!
> 
> Thanks for all the continued feedback on these last few chapters, and super shout-out to flagbearer_or_scouts once again for all of her continued help!

Once again, you’re back on vacation. This time, it’s the mountains. A hot spring somewhere, just you sitting there with the faintest scent of sulfur in the steam rolling off of the water. Some sort of mixed drink sits next to you on the ledge.

So does Weiss, in a two-piece suit that accents her skin tone and shows off her curves. She sinks below the water beside you, nudging you with her elbow and gently saying your name.

“Switch.”

Another nudge.

“Hey, Switch, get up.”

Fuck. Another dream. You slowly come to, opening your eyes and glancing around you. Weiss is standing beside your bed, having just nudged you to get you awake. You smile up at her, then notice Winter standing in the doorway.

“Good afternoon, Specialist.”

Wait, afternoon? You slept that long? A glance at the clock on the wall. 1446. Yup. It _is_ afternoon.

“Afternoon, ma’am.” You sit up, minding the same, sore pain in your gut. “Is… ow… is there anything I can do for you?”

“Just rest easy. Nothing urgent. “ Winter’s hands are behind her back in her standard pose, and she brings them out from behind her as she steps up to your bed. “I just wanted to extend Atlas’s thanks as well as my own to you for what you did yesterday. Nothing held you to even coming here and helping with an Atlas operation, but you went above and beyond anything we expected. If you ever need anything in the future, Y/N… let me know.”

“Thanks, Major Sch-“

She puts a hand up. “Winter. Major Schnee in front of the Vanguard, but it’s Winter here.”

A slight smile tugs at the corners of your lips. “Thanks, Winter.”

“Heal up, soldier. We’ll need you back in the fight soon enough.”

…

You lay back, closing your eyes and bringing your hands up to rub at your face. You haven’t been outside in two days, and you’ve seen the same two faces the entire time with the exception of Winter. It’s starting to get cramped. Stuffy. An accurate term might be cabin fever.

“Weiss…. When can I get the hell out of here?”

Weiss is sitting in that same lounge chair to your right, her legs crossed and her nose in some magazine with a helicopter on the front. From the look of the wear and tear on the pages, it’s an older issue that has been circulating in the hospital for months. “Wish I could tell you, Y/N.” She flips the page.  “You still have a gaping hole in your stomach.”

You groan, looking up at the ceiling and reaching for the remote to the TV. You page through the channels for the third time, looking with empty hopes at each program for something that seems interesting. However, you’re out of luck.

There’s _nothing_ on.

“Damn it. I gotta get out of here.”

“Wanna take a walk with me?”

Your eyebrows arch up, tainting your response in sarcasm. “Oh, sure. Where, oh, where would be go? Around the room? To the bathroom? Oh, even better, down the hall?”

“Y/N…”

“At least you can go out. Take a drive, grab dinner and some wine with Winter-“

“I haven’t left this room either, Switch.”

“Wait… what?”

“I have not been out of this room for as long as you’ve been in it.” She closes up the magazine and sets it down. She stands up, walking over and letting down one of the rails beside your bed. “C’mon. Let’s go get some food in the cafeteria. Or do you wanna be lazy and have people bring it up to you?”

“Not a chance…” With her help, you sit up and swing your legs over the side of the bed. You’re still hooked up to an IV stand, which is on wheels. With Weiss on your left and the cart in your hand on your right, you head out the door.

Hospitals always seem so… whitewashed. Like everything is supposed to be clean and pure. That’s part of the illusion, you guess. All the doctors and nurses in scrubs, greeting you with smiles despite the fact that _there is a fucking hole in your gut_. Battlefield medicine isn’t pretty, but neither are all of the procedures that go on in the trauma wing of the ER.

The steps you take are small, each one slightly painful and making you walk hunched-over. It’s as if the staples are pulling the skin of your stomach, which also restricts your breathing.

The soldier aspect of you, however, keeps pushing you on farther. Regain your strength. Make each step a bit longer, move a bit faster, keep going…

“Hey. This isn’t a race. Slow down.” Weiss is pulling you backwards gently, her hand on your bicep. “We’re back to square one if you pop any of those staples.”

You stop in the hallway, breathing faster than normal. “I… just want to get out of here. Get my strength back.”

“That’ll take time. Be patient.”

You sigh, letting the tightness in your chest ease up as the air escapes. She’s right. But you _still_ want to be out of here as soon as possible. “Alright. I’ll take it a bit slower. Let’s go.”

Weiss helps you down to the hospital’s cafeteria. Surprisingly, she doesn’t lead you to the food line, but over to take a seat at a table.

“What do you want? I’ll get it for you.”

“You don’t have to-“

“What. Do. You want?”

You shake your head with a chuckle. “Honestly? A plate of scrambled eggs if they can manage it. Eggs sound… delicious right now.”

“I’ll see if they can do it. You... you’re not allowed to move.”

Your reply is once again teasing in nature. “Yes, Captain.”

You take a moment to look around the cafeteria at some of the murals on the walls. Everything is tinted with either white or gold paint, with each of the tables being a combination of light blue tops and chrome legs. A lot of the murals look like squadron patches, all from Atlesian units that you don’t recognize off the top of your head.

Except for one. It’s a black, yellow and silver patch in the shape of a shield, with two crossed spears. The top of the shield reads “VANGUARD.” It’s the same patch that most of the soldiers were wearing when you first saw Winter at that briefing.

“Five eggs, all scrambled. Cheese sprinkled on top.” Weiss sets the plate down in front of you. “Surprised they still had breakfast food, but I brought you back some potatoes, too. Eat up.”

“Thanks, Weiss.” You open a package with plasticware, and dig in, suddenly developing an appetite with food in front of you. You had been on liquid food and glorified smoothies up until that morning, when apparently one of the nurses cleared you for solid food. At least, she said you could give it a shot. So, you get busy. And it’s only after about half the plate that you realize that five eggs might not have been a good idea. You’re already full by that point.

“Hey, Weiss… I have to ask. You… said you haven’t left the room? Why?”

“I, uh…” Weiss’s ice-blue eyes dance away from you for a moment, scanning the room and taking a moment to reply. “I talked to the rest of the team, and since they couldn’t be there, they made me promise that I’d stay with you.”

Once again… you’re left in the same state she left you in yesterday. Desperately wanting a specifically different answer.

“Got it. That’s a very… Ruby-ish thing to do.” You turn your attention back to the eggs, wondering if you can _actually_ fit any more into your stomach. It’s no doubt that you need the strength they’d give you to heal.

“Yeah… something like that…” She suddenly stands up, heading back to the food line.

…

“Switch!” Ruby jogs over to you and wraps her good arm around you in a hug. “We got the report yesterday. So glad you and Weiss are okay…”

Yang grins, waving at you from the small workout area. Her hair is pulled back, and sweat glistens on her face. “Please… we were never _that_ worried about them, were we?” Her tone is teasing.

You walk over to your area with your arm around Weiss, noticing how what used to be a simple cot is actually now the bottom half of a bunk, complete with a mattress and a set of thick cotton linens. She sits you down on the edge, along with your gear and your rifle.

Yang turns the music that’s playing in the hangar down, but she steps back up to the heavy bag that she had been hitting when you and Weiss got off the plane, and keeps working at it as she talks. “So…. Tell us about it. Every little detail.” You watch her jab, cross, and hook at the bag, causing it to swing violently on the stand. Here’s hoping you don’t have to face Yang in a stand-up boxing match.

Blake sits on a trunk by Yang’s workout area, her hands wrapped as if she was working the punching bag as well. She watches Yang with amber eyes cut into cat slits.

You yawn, evidenced by the long day of getting discharged from the hospital, packing, and grabbing a cargo hop back to Beacon Field before the end of the day. It was a whirlwind, as Weiss had you up close to 0600 this morning. It’s not that you’re tired… well, no. It is that you’re tired from a long day while your body is still trying to heal. “Can… I let Weiss explain everything to you? I…. really need to grab some rest…. Been a long day…”

Yang keeps hitting the bag with loud thwacks, making it swing harder and harder before putting a hand out to stop it. “Fine, sleepyhead. Get your rest. We’ll be quiet.” She grabs her scroll off of a weight bench and kills the music.

Weiss speaks up to you and the team, all while nudging you to lay down. “Switch, get your rest. Everyone else, I’ll let you in on what went down, and he can debrief you on his side later, if that’s okay.”

You nod, gingerly easing yourself down to avoid any more of that ripping/ stretching sensation on your wound.

A few moments later, as Weiss leaves your side, you’re out. Asleep.

…

This time, you sleep peacefully, without dreams or anything disturbing you through the night. You awake to the sound of helicopters and jets spinning up. Most civilians would say that it’s obnoxious, but you find it oddly soothing.

You sit up, minding the same soreness but glad that it has lessened quite a bit since yesterday when you were discharged. When you swing your legs over, your foot bumps into something mildly heavy. It’s a colored liter-sized water bottle, completely full. Something that’s greatly appreciated right now.

With a simple twist, the ice-cold water rains down your throat. You have to stop yourself before swallowing too much, or else it all might come back up. That’s when you notice that absolutely nobody is in the hangar. It’s somewhat dark, all the lights off except for an oven light on in the kitchen area.

You screw the top of the water bottle back on, and stand, slowly, making your way over to the light.

Huh. Turns out you’re not alone in the hangar. Ruby is standing at the counter with a measuring cup in the dark, trying to see the lines as she pours some kind of white powder that appears to be sugar.

“Would this maybe help?” You flip a nearby light switch, turning on the overhead kitchen light.

Ruby jumps, causing a puff of the confectionary sugar to shower the counter. “Damn it, Switch. Give me more of a warning, next time.”

“Sorry… I’ll help you clean.”

She waves you off. “Nah.”  The pouring continues. “Figured you guys made me cookies when I was wounded, so I wanted to make you a batch.” She levels off the sugar and pours it into a mixing bowl. “Besides, I _really_ wanted some myself.” She reaches over for a tray on top of the oven, popping two freshly-baked ones into her mouth at once. From the smell…. Those are peanut butter, as opposed to the traditional chocolate chip. With her mouth still full, she gestures to the cookie sheet. “Mmm…. Helf furself…”

“Maybe in a bit. Where’s everyone else?”

A big swallow, briefly closing her eyes to get the chunk of baked dessert down. “They went on call, and got selected to go out.”

“What?”

“The helicopter that probably woke you up was theirs. Don’t worry, Switch. It’s a milk run. Doubt they’re even gonna get shot at.”

“I… I hope you’re right.”

“What’s wrong?” Ruby sets the measuring cup down leaning against the counter and looking at you with much more concern on her face. Her smile fades, her eyes fixated on you.

“Just… it scares me that the team is going out there without me. Without us. Anything can happen, and I wanna be there, with them. I know they’re good, just… being with two less guns isn’t a good way to fight. And what if they need a medic? If anybody gets hurt, I’d blame myself.”

“Y/N, Ozpin knows that you and I are out of commission, and he knows everything you just said. Don’t worry. They’ll be fine. I’m their leader, and I can promise you that they’ll be back within the morning.” The buzzer on the oven suddenly goes off, causing Ruby to jump again. “And when they get back, they’ll have fresh cookies waiting for them.” Ruby turns from you, donning oven mitts and reaching into the oven for the cookie pan.

A smile starts to tug at the corners of your lips. “Yeah. They sure will. And… Ruby?”

She sets the hot pan down and looks at you again, shrugging off the mitts. “Hmm?”

“Thanks for…. For, well, telling Weiss to stick by my side through the days I was at the hospital.”

“What are you talking about?”

“She… called you, didn’t she? And you told her not to leave my side?”

Ruby shakes her head. “Switch… we haven’t talked to Weiss aside from last night.”


	23. Downtime

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey, everyone. I'm still writing, even with the holidays. Just slowing down a bit. Sorry this chapter took a bit longer to get to you.
> 
> This is another one of those chapters that I'm a little unsure of, but I hope you like it!

“Switch… we haven’t talked to Weiss aside from last night.”

“That…. What?”

“We literally just found out what happened in an intel burst from Atlas Command yesterday afternoon, and heard you were coming back an hour or so after that. We never talked to her, or called, or anything like that.”

Thinking about it, Weiss would’ve been under orders to keep any details about the op to herself and those with a need-to-know. Under Atlas security protocols, that means that RWBY would’ve been kept in the dark. It makes sense.

Ruby sees the puzzled look on your face. “Why?”

You lean against the fridge. “According to her, she never left my side, and the reason for that was supposedly that you and the rest of the team told her to.”

Ruby’s eyes widen, a hand coming up to shield her mouth after shoving yet another cookie into her mouth, but she recovers and shrugs her shoulder after swallowing. “Um... well, that does sound like me. The team’s been together a long time, Switch. Weiss probably just knew that’s what we’d want her to do.” She turns away, brushing cookie crumbs off of her hands and into a sink.

Your shoulders drop, shoving your hands into your pockets. “Yeah… That could be it…”

Ruby stops, straightening up and cocking her head at you. “Switch, you’ve got something going for her, don’t you?”

“Um… Well…”

Ruby beams and rushes forward to hug you, squeezing you tightly. “That’s so exciting… You’re melting the Ice Queen…”

“Ow…. Ruby…. Wound….”

She suddenly releases you, muttering apologies under her breath.

“I don’t think she’d ever want to get romantic someone on her team, though…”

“Switch, keep the door open. She might surprise you.”

…

“They shouldn’t be out this long.”

“Relax, Y/N… I’m sure they’re fine.”

You’re up, pacing around the front of the hangar, trying to work out some of the soreness at your wound. Your eyes nervously glance up to the horizon every few seconds. You’re watching. The wait is beginning to intensify the bit of anxiety that has been resting in the back of your mind since you woke up without the team there.

“We should be out there with them.” You stop and cross your arms, still looking outward as the sun reaches its peak in the sky. It casts short shadows across the tarmac on the runway, but the air is cool around you. You’re still comfortable in a light jacket and jeans.

“No. No, we shouldn’t.”

“What?” You turn, uncrossing your arms and crossing the short distance to Ruby at her workbench. She has a file out, and is making small, millimeter adjustments to something that looks like a trigger assembly.

She looks up from the bench. “Just…. Trust your team. Our team. They’ll be fine, okay? They’ve been through some pretty scary stuff in the past.”

You turn, feeling your blood start to boil at Ruby’s comment. It shouldn’t, but it gets under your skin. There’s something primal in you, something telling you that _you should be out there_. “Does it always feel this way?”

“Feel like what?” She sets the trigger down, hopping up to sit on the workbench.

“Literally everything right now is telling me I have to be out there with the team. With my guns, killing bad guys with that adrenaline just pumping-“

“Dude…” She interrupts you. “Listen to yourself.”

You shake your head, noticing the accelerating heartrate in your ears, and a glance down at your hands reveals that you’re shaking. “I’m craving that feeling right now.” A pause. “Does it always feel this way? When I’m not trying to get the images out of my head, I become a war junky?”

“Well, I’m pretty sure you’re here for the right reasons and not just some ‘war junky,’ as you put it. So… to answer your question… I don’t know. I used to get that feeling whenever we went a while without a mission or anything to do.” She pauses, and the sigh betrays the confidence she’s speaking with. “It’s the down time that’s hard.”

“Yeah.” You make a fist, squeezing it hard to try and stop the shaking. “When you’re out there… you flip the switch and you’re just… on. Rocking and rolling and the only thing you care about is where you’re going to move next, or where you’re going to shoot, or what you’ll do if this or that happens… you’re right. It’s the down time that’s hard. I just… I just wanna shoot something.”

“Hey. Grab your rifle. Let’s get our minds off of this.” Ruby hops down off of the workbench and takes one of the rifles off of the gun rack, sliding it into a case. “You wanted to shoot something, so let’s go shooting.”

“Isn’t your arm still injured?”

“Not the arm I shoot with. And you can still shoulder a rifle in your condition, no matter what the doctors say. If you don’t feel up for it, you can spot for me.” She stops, giving you a moment to think before continuing, her voice deeper and much more commanding. “Either way, you’re coming with me.”

…

“Give me winds, Switch.”

You’re laying down beside Ruby on a mat, with a long range spotting scope on a low tripod in front of you. The grass is cool, oddly relaxing against your bare forearms. Despite the staples still being in place on your stomach, you’re comfortable as you look through the scope at the target. The target is a 12 inch circular steel plate hanging from a frame. The digital interface on the scope tells you that the target is 512 yards away. It would be a tough shot for you.

You look around the target for anything that could hint at wind speed. The way the grass is blowing. Flags, streamers, the leaves on the trees. If it were an urban environment, you’d look at people’s clothing.

“Um… I say roughly 10 knots north, local to the target.” You open both eyes and pull back from the scope, blinking to clear away your vision. “No ambient wind around us.”

“Piece of cake.” Ruby chambers a round. The gun she brought is an M24 chambered in .300 Winchester Magnum. The round is reliably accurate out to about to 600 yards, but it’s lethal out to about 1000.

“Wind dropped to 5 knots, local to the target. Same direction. Fire at will.”

You listen to her breathing. The rise and fall of her chest. She takes a full breath in, releases half of it.

Gunshot. You look through the spotting scope, waiting to see where the shot lands.

There it is. Puff of dust, ten feet to the right of the target.

“Miss. Ten feet to the right?”

“What?!” Ruby looks through her scope to see the puff of dust starting to fade. “I thought you said the wind was at five knots from the north.”

“I said ‘five knots north.’ That means blowing to the north.”

She lets go of the grip, pulling away from her scope to let out a chuckle. “Every wind direction, from now on, will be from the direction it’s blowing.” She playfully jabs at your shoulder. “Got it?”

“Got it.” It’s a simple miscommunication. Not a failure of either of your parts. Settle down. Let your shoulders relax. Let the cooling autumn air lose its edge. Focus on shooting with Ruby.

She settles back down into her position, pulling the scope up to her eye. “Winds, again.”

You see that the wind hasn’t changed, so you repeat what you said earlier with the correction. “Winds local to the target are at five knots, south.”

“Winds, five knots south.” She reaches up and adjusts her scope after chambering a new round. The turret clicks rhythmically with her input.

“Fire at will.”

She takes in that full breath again, and lets out half. You peer through your spotting scope, waiting.

Gunshot.

The plate suddenly and violently swings backward in your view. A few seconds later, the sound of the round hitting it comes back past you. “Hit. Slightly off center on the plate.”

“As I said, piece of cake.”

This… this was a good idea. Ruby bringing you out to the shooting range. Your mind has something to do. Something to take your mind off of the team. Back in the hangar, with nothing but time on your hands, your brain can wander and constantly remind you how much you miss the battlefield. But out here? You’re occupied. You’ve got a job. A purpose.

“Your turn.” Ruby raises and pulls the bolt of her rifle back, expelling the spent cartridge and nudging the gun over to you.

“Alright… if you insist…” You lift the spotting scope and pass it to her.

“It’s just like shooting an M4 or an SR-25. Just breathe, hold it, and squeeze. I’ll give you winds and distances.”

You get comfortable, adjusting the bipod and the eye relief on the scope to where it’s good for you. Shooting precise long-distance is nothing new to you, but you haven’t done it in a while.

She backs out of her scope to point at a steel silhouette of a man. “Target is at 250 yards. Local target winds are neutral. Let’s see what you can do. Fire at will.”

You press the bolt forward and lock it down, closing one eye and looking through the scope. You find the target, and put the crosshairs on the head.

Easy in, easy out. Hold your breath on the third one. Keep the crosshairs steady.

Gentle squeeze.

Gunshot. The silhouette rocks backward, taking the hit.

“Hit. Off-center on his head, a tad low. Next target is the steel plate at the 400 yard mark. Winds are ten knots south. Fire at will.”

You open both eyes, finding the target and moving the rifle to it. You work the bolt, chambering the new round. Close one eye, find the target in your scope.

Breathe in, breathe out. Crosshairs on the plate, off-centered due to the winds.

Pressure on the trigger with the pad of your finger.

Gunshot. There’s a wisp of dust behind the plate.

“Miss. Slightly under. I think you anticipated it too much.”

“I don’t think I botched it…”

Ruby puts her hand on your forearm. “Relax. You anticipated the shot and jerked the trigger. Happens to the best of us. Reload and shoot again.”

You purse your lips and nod, reworking the bolt and chambering the last round of the magazine.

“Winds are the same. Gentle, easing pressure. The gun should surprise you when it goes off. Fire at will.”

The crosshairs stay steady. Your position is good, as are the hands supporting the gun. As you focus, you notice the leaves on the trees around the target suddenly go still. The winds are ambient. _Fire now._

You adjust your aim so that the crosshairs are centered on the target. Gentle squeeze.

Gunshot.

“Hit. Dead center. Nice shot, Y/N.”

You work the bolt, ejecting the final round as you nudge yourself up to be on your elbows. “Piece of cake.”

Rotors. Helicopters flying in the distance. You turn back to look at the airfield as three Pave Hawks fly into the pattern in formation. You recognize the markings on them as those from Phoenix squadron.

“I guess the team’s back?” Part of the anxiety for the team that gripped you before loosens its hold.

“Maybe. C’mon. Let’s welcome them back and see how the mission went.”

You pick up Ruby’s rifle, and put it into the back of the UTV you drove out in. As you slide into the passenger’s seat, Ruby starts the engine and begins the short drive back to the airfield.

 

 

 


	24. Minor Throbbing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait, but here it is, a week later! Hope you all enjoy reading just as much as I enjoyed writing this chapter!

Mud and dirt clods fly up off of the tires of the side-by-side and bounce off of the body. The path back to the airfield is wider and made for large trucks, but Ruby puts the pedal down and opens the throttle up, making the ride back much, much quicker than if you had taken a truck.

You lean against the door, letting out a breath and bringing a hand up to the staples on your stomach. The first day of really being up and about is definitely taking its toll on you. The very last thing you want to do is reopen that incision and have to go _back_ to the hospital for a few days. But you’re pacing yourself. Taking your time, even though there’s still that piece of you that wishes you were on the helicopter with Weiss, Blake, and Yang. Especially Weiss.

“Doing okay?”

“Yeah. Stab’s hurting me a bit but I’ll live.” You ease up off of the door, trying to straighten up as much as you can without the bumps of the path aggravating your injury. The light pressure of your hand is enough to take the edge off. “What about you?”

Ruby rolls out her shoulder, extending and retracting her left arm. “I’ve got decent movement again, but I still have a lot of physical therapy before I’m back to full strength.” She mutters under her breath, but loud enough that you can still hear. “Hurts a lot, though.”

A jolt hits you as the dirt road you were just on merges with the asphalt of the airfield. The air always seemed to get at least ten degrees hotter in the summer. But today? With the wind blowing and the sun starting to set, it’s the same, if not a shade colder. “Think we’ll be back out there soon?”

Ruby shrugs, driving with one hand on top of the steering wheel and letting her left arm hang outside the door. “Don’t think about that right now, Switch. Just enjoy the cookies and free rest.”

You can see your hangar, but Ruby makes a sharp turn before you get to it. For a moment you’re headed to an empty section of the airfield, but you look up and see the markings of Phoenix 1-1 descending to the tarmac. Ruby stops dangerously close to the rotors.

As the engines cut and the beating of the blades slows down, three figures ease their ways out of the helicopter. You can’t quite make out who’s who yet because of the way the sun is casting glare into your eyes, but one of them is leaning on another, her arm around the other’s shoulders and a hand clutching her chest.

Ruby opens the door and gets out of the UTV, stepping up to the trio. “Yang. What happened?”

Yang has her gun slung across her back, and is leaning lightly on Blake. “It’s nothing. Took one to the plate. I’ll be fine.”

“What?!” Ruby rushes over to her sister, trying to take her other arm but Yang brushes her away.

“Blakey here is more than enough help. Just…” Yang sighs, gripping the nylon uniform and equipment harder for a second. It doesn’t take your combat medic training to know that she’s in more pain than she’s letting on. “Damn… give me a ride back.”

You open the door and shift over on the bench seat to make room for Yang as Ruby climbs back into the driver’s seat. Blake helps Yang in and closes the low door behind her. “Blake, you’re not coming?”

Blake answers your question, already turning and heading back to the helicopter. “We’ve got more gear in the chopper. We’ll see you all back in the hangar.” She points to one of her eyes and then motions at Yang with a stiff finger at the end of her reply to you. _Watch her._

You nod in return. You’ve already been monitoring Yang’s breathing since she climbed into the side-by-side. The realization slowly comes to you that you’re doing something for the team again. You’re no longer a burden, dragging the team down, or just some sloth sitting in the hangar. You’re an asset. Giving back to RWBY just like you do on the battlefield. Feels good to have a purpose again, doesn’t it?

Ruby drops it into gear and turns around. “Yang, what happened out there?”

“The call was to provide extra support for some Mistral units out east. Heavy Grimm offensive, just infantry due to the terrain. Heavily wooded area. Choppers had trouble finding landing zones.” She starts taking off her rig, piece by piece. “When we finally got on the ground… Ruby, it was a mess. As in organization, not casualties. The Grimm were kicking their ass. We spearheaded a push that found them some breathing room while CFVY reorganized their leadership, to put it lightly.”

Yang tosses her gloves into the back of the UTV. “From there…. It was just a firefight. And a damn long one.”

Ruby’s voice lowers, barely audible over the engine. “Did you ever flare?” The UTV gently comes to a stop at the front of the hangar.

Yang starts climbing out, with you following and taking her arm around your shoulders. She leans on you, but only lightly. “No. I never flared. I took the round in the spearhead, earlier on. Pretty sure it was a pistol round. A rifle round should’ve broken ribs.”

“Let me take a look at you.” Your voice comes as a command, one that makes Yang turn to look at you with a chuckle.

“I’m fine, Y/N.” She slips her hands off of her shoulders and flips her hair in a teasing fashion. “Never felt better!”

You cross your arms and lean on one foot. “You and I both know that there could be injuries underneath that aren’t causing you pain.” Internal bleeding, stress fractures, potential for pneumothorax all cross your mind. Any of which could take Yang out of the fight for much longer than you’ll be. Or take her out permanently.

“I told you…” She puts up her hands, flashing her usual smile your way. “I’m fine.” She starts backpedaling towards her bunk. “Sheesh, I’m going to start calling you Ice King if you keep it up like that.”

From behind you, Ruby snorts and lets out a short laugh.

“What’s so funny?”

Ruby replies. “Switch would actually like that name.”

You turn and glare at her. “Hey!”

“Just saying.”

…

When Weiss and Blake finally get back to the hanger, with black gearbags slung over their shoulders and carrying rifles in their hands, you’re laying down in your bed. Eyes closed, relaxing at how the position you’re in is alleviating that relentless aching in your gut.

“I’ll follow up with that team and CFVY, make sure everything’s alright after everything Coco did.” Ambient conversation from Weiss floats through the hangar. You hear the thud of gearbags being set down and rifles set on the workbench.

“Do it. It feels good to finally do something successful out there for once.” Blake, for once, sounds accomplished. Her usual cold confidence is gone, with a new sense of pride taking its place.

Footsteps. Coming over to you. The mattress tilts as if a weight is slowly placed on it, and a gentle hand falls on your chest as you open your eyes. It’s Weiss, with Blake standing a foot or two behind her.

“Hey. Did you get a chance to take a look at Yang?” She’s speaking softly. For a moment, you feel like _her_ patient.

“No… she shrugged me off and said she was fine.”

Blake’s eyes narrow, and her reply comes quick. Harsh. Deeply contrasting with the tone in her conversation with Weiss. “What?!”

The sudden outburst isn’t directed at you. She makes a beeline over to her girlfriend, hauling the sleeping blonde down from the top bunk.

“Are you kidding me right now?”

“Oh… hey, Blake.” Yang’s sleepy smile reflects back at the Faunus as she gets to her feet.

“Right now, your lungs could be filling up with blood and your chest cavity with air. You could’ve died in your sleep without anybody knowing.”

“Blake, I’m fine.”

“Shut up!” Blake reaches down for Yang’s combat vest, undoing part of the Velcro and pulling Yang’s ceramic armor plate out. There’s an indent in it at the top, extremely close to the edge. “Yang. A single inch higher and you’d be fighting for your life.” Blake drops the plate, and grabs a piece of Yang’s collar. “Probably dead!”

Silence. Only the echo of the plate hitting the ground reverberates through the hangar.

You start to sit up, but Weiss’s hand on your chest keeps you pinned to the bed. She’s forcing you down, her ice-blue eyes fixated on her teammates.

Blake still has her hand wrapped up in Yang’s collar. Her eyes are cut into slits, locked with Yang’s. Ears folded down. The blonde’s hands are curled into tight fists, her knuckles turning white in the process. One foot slightly farther forward than the other. Poised. But her eyes aren’t red yet.

Blake releases her hold on the collar and slowly reaches down, taking Yang’s hands and gently uncurling them to lace their fingers together. “At least… just let _me_ take a look at you.”

Yang sighs, the tension relaxing from her shoulders. All of a sudden, she’s smiling again. “I can’t say no to you, kitten.”

Something relaxes in you, too. Like you’re backing away from the edge of a cliff.

Weiss’s hand is gently easing away from you and letting you up. Sitting up is significantly more difficult… as you tighten your muscles in your abdomen, an involuntary groan escapes your lips. Your hand snaps to press on the wounds, and Weiss whirls around to wrap her arm around your shoulders, helping you up.

“Thanks…”

Weiss offers you the water bottle that was at your feet when you woke up this morning. “Just take it easy. You don’t need to break your staples. How are you feeling?”

“Minor throbbing…” You unscrew the lid and sip the lukewarm water. It’s vaguely salty- something you didn’t notice earlier.

She offers a smile, a slight upturn at the corner of her mouth. “Liar. You not being able to sit up is not just ‘minor throbbing.’”

Screwing the lid back on, you toss it down and slowly ease your legs over to sit beside her. You suck in a deep breath, and notice the very, very faint scent of Weiss’s perfume. Most soldiers try to wash out any kind of scent before going outside the wire… maybe she didn’t have time when they left this morning?

Well, who cares, since she’s back now? You’re coming to love that distinctly feminine scent.

“Ow! Watch it, Blake!” Yang pulls your attention away from Weiss with a pained shout. She’s sitting on Blake’s bed, her shirt off and revealing a series of bruises across her chest. Even though plates prevent the bullet from penetrating, the force is still spread out across the entire plate, creating the bruising you see now. You’ve seen it before in photos.

“Bruised ribs, for sure. But I don’t think anything’s broken.” Blake’s hands continue prodding around Yang’s ribcage, prompting sharp, pained gasps from the blonde.

“Then stop poking around!”

“I’m just glad you’re okay. A bigger round would’ve put you down for the count.”

Yang laughs, waving a hand confidently. “There’s only one thing that can do that.”

“Huh?” Blake’s cat ears perk straight up.

“You.” Yang places her hands against Blake’s jaw and pulls her in. Their lips meet, Blake reacting in surprise for a moment before her eyes slip closed. The Faunus’s hands fall to Yang’s waist just as you look away.

Your scroll vibrates in your pocket. It’s that same group text between RWBY and JNPR.

_We're heading out for a round. RWBY is invited. -Jaune_

A few seconds go by.

_Hope Yang is up for a rematch! -Nora_

You look up, and see Ruby with her scroll out, too. Weiss looks over your shoulder at the text. You smile and offer a nod.

_We'll be there. No scotch for Weiss this time. -Switch_


	25. Three Bears Bar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *wipes my brow* This chapter was an absolute grind, requiring about 3 different reworks and a lot of editing. Hope you all enjoy it! Sorry it took so long.
> 
> On another note, we are over 1500 hits! Thank you all so, so much!

A slurry of texts make your scroll buzz in your hand.

_We’re going to that taphouse in downtown. Think it was called Three Bears or something like that. –Jaune_

_Yes. Three Bears Bar.-Ren_

_Ren, you’re sitting right next to us. –Nora_

_And you’re responding. –Ren_

Blake’s voice beckons you away from your screen. “Guess we’re driving there?”

You’re still sitting on the edge of your bed beside Weiss, who is looking over your shoulder at your scroll.

“If you all want to go ahead and head out, Blake and I will follow once we get cleaned up.” Yang shrugs out of Blake’s arms and starts to undress. Her girlfriend doesn’t go anywhere. In fact, she’s watching intently.

Weiss pipes up, looking at Yang then to Ruby. “I’ll drive. Better to have to bigger vehicle there in case we need more seats to get back. I don’t really plan on drinking too much.” She stands up, offering an arm to help you up.

You take it, responding to Weiss. “Sure. We can head out now. You coming, Ruby?”

Ruby’s eyes flit between you and Weiss for a moment too long. “Y’know…” she says, slowly, “I’m gonna wait up for Blake and my sister.”

Weiss’s head whips around fast enough to make her ponytail bounce over her shoulder and smack into your face.

As you recoil, Yang calls out, “Whoa, Ice Queen. What’s that look?” You’re still brushing strands of hair out of your face by the time she shakes her head and calls for you.

“Alright, Switch. Come on.” Weiss’s gaze is narrowed at Ruby as she steps towards the door at the back of the hangar. As you step outside, the night sky grabs your attention with how bright and clear the stars are tonight. Remnant’s scattered moon is sharp, as the lack of light pollution from the airfield only brightens the border between each piece and the darkness behind it.

Your gaze is quickly interrupted by the sudden blast of two jets spinning up to full afterburner and taking off. While the noise is momentarily deafening, you can’t help but wonder at how the flames behind the pair look like shooting stars.

Weiss’s car is a large white luxury SUV, lifted a few inches from stock with aftermarket wheels and tires. It sits outside the back of the hangar and greets you with cold leather seats when you climb in.

As Weiss turns the key, you pull out your scroll and begin to page through applications for one that will give you directions. “Do you know how to get there, or do you need me to navigate?”

“I’ve got it.” After replying to you, she raises her voice slightly, each word particularly more enunciated. “Route to Three Bears Bar in downtown Vale.”

A synthetic male voice responds through the speakers of the car. “Calculating route. Estimated time to arrival, 26 minutes.”

“Thanks, Klein.” Weiss drops the car into reverse and turns to start backing away from the hangar.

“Klein?”

In the moonlight, you catch her smiling. “Yeah. I mentioned that my family was pretty wealthy. He was one of the butlers that took care of me after mother was killed. The car’s voice sounded like one of his.”

“Huh. What was he like?”

Weiss glances at you, taking a moment to think through her answer. “Well… I never knew my mother very well. I’ve heard Ruby and Yang refer to their parents as ‘mom and dad,’ but… I was always told to call her ‘mother.’ My father was the same way, and still is. Too concerned with the war and meetings with generals and politicians.”

She pauses, letting out a breath and starting to smile a bit wider. “Klein was like a mom and dad to me at the same time… In his free time, he taught me to play piano. He would tell me fairy tales from his own childhood, but also stories about battles and wars that were waged long before this one. I never asked him to, but he almost always had a full pot of hot chocolate ready for when I came in from the Atlas cold. Just… little things like that that make your childhood that much better.”

 

Your seat is very upright. Uncomfortable, like sitting cross-legged for too long. You reach for the side of it, looking for a lever or button that would incline it backwards more. You find an electronic switch that slowly eases your seat rearward into a more comfortable position.

As you pull out onto the main road to take you off of the base, you roll the window down to let the cool autumn air flood the car. That’s when you notice just how clean Weiss’s car is, especially for how big it is. Every piece of trim is free of dust, while the vinyl of the dash shines and reflects the light off the street lamps.

Only two things indicate the fact that this car didn’t just roll out of the showroom. The first is the small metal pendant of a fantasy-looking rapier hanging from the rearview mirror. The other is the pistol holster pinned to Weiss’s door, accompanied by two fully loaded magazines in the cupholders.

Relaxing even more, she takes one hand off of the wheel. “What about you?”

“Huh?” You turn to look back at her, noticing the smile still across her face. Something in the back of your mind floats that maybe that smile came from you.

“Tell me something new about you.”

You glance around the SUV again, trying to find out what story would be suitable to tell her. As you study the fancy buttons, controls, and interfaces in an attempt to draw your gaze away from Weiss’s pistol, you think through your past. What would make her laugh? Or… what would keep her smiling? “Well, I’ve got one. Just a funny, embarrassing story from my childhood…”

“Those are the best kind…”

You bring a hand up to rub the back of your neck. “Okay. Here goes…”

…

Weiss bursts out laughing at the end of your story, trying to cover her mouth and keep her eyes on the road at the same time. You join her in laughter, feeling a new swell of pride at the fact that _you made her laugh._

“Wow, Switch. I wish I would’ve known you as a kid.” She shakes her head, calming down from what you just told her. “You had to have been absolutely hilarious…”

“Something like that. I wish I grew up with you and Klein, too.” You look back outside, watching the Vale skyline get closer in your view. Green and purple neon clash with the faded yellow of incandescent street lights. “I’m not sure what else I could tell you, other than maybe basic stories.”

Weiss  chuckles, her eyes still watching the road. The red glow of the gauge cluster highlights the curves and ridges of her face, and reveals stray strands of hair that she wears out of the ponytail. “Then tell me another basic story.”

You page through the files in your mind, trying to think back to that time. The funny thing about basic is how _stupid_ everyone gets from sleep deprivation, muscle fatigue, and constant stress. For the same reason, it’s hard to remember a lot of the finer details that made certain events absolutely hilarious.

Oh. There’s _that_ story…

A grin starts to tug at the corners of your mouth as you remember it. “Ever called a ma’am a sir, or vice versa?”

“C’mon. It was basic. If you say you didn’t do it at least once, you’re a liar.” Weiss rests her hand on the transmission knob, leaning a bit closer to you.

“Well, was it to Glynda Goodwitch?”

Weiss’s eyes widen and glance at you. “You mouthed off to Colonel Goodwitch?

“Yes. Yes I did. Worst case scenario. She put that little baton of hers right in my face, and had me scream that little basic phrase while the rest of my team was pushing. Y’know, ‘ma’am, you are a ma’am, not a sir, ma’am.’ It got really confusing after a while.” You can’t wipe the grin off of your face at the memory.

Weiss grins, too, shaking her head. “You insubordinate dolt. You know she’s stationed at Beacon, right?”

Your stomach drops instantly. You hoped you would never have to see her again. “What?”

Weiss reaches over and gently pats your thigh. “Relax, Y/N. I’m sure she’s completely forgotten about you.”

Klein’s synthetic voice comes through the speakers. “In a quarter mile, turn left, and the destination will be on your right.”

“Thanks, Klein.” Weiss slows down and makes a left turn at a stoplight, giving you a good view of a building decorated with a sign stating “Three Bears Bar.” Next to the main entrance is a lifelike wooden carving of a bear, set off into the homey landscaping scattered around the door.

As Weiss shuts the engine off in the parking lot, you climb out and slip your hands into your pockets. Weiss’s ponytail swings towards you in the wind as you walk inside, also carrying the familiar scent of her perfume to you, a stark contrast to the savory smell of grilled food wafting from the bar.

When you push open the front door, Nora waves at you from a table at the corner of the bar. “Switch! Over here!”

You smile and offer a gentle wave back, and start to make your way to the table where the rest of JNPR is sitting.

In contrast to the Crow Bar, Three Bears Bar is the picturesque form of the word “taphouse.” The bar counter is adorned with at least two dozen tap handles, most of which you don’t recognize. The low lighting and hardwood floors cast the whole place in amber light. Even Weiss’s fair skin appears a shade darker. The walls are decorated with memorabilia reminiscent of a hunting cabin. Above the bar hangs a large painting depicting a young woman sharing a mug of beer with three unique bears.

The bar is fairly crowded for it being an evening. It’s surprising that JNPR was even able to find a table. Glasses clink together and the gentle hum of friendly conversation echoes throughout the building.

A waiter at register by the bar smiles at you when you lock gazes. “Be right with you!”

You put a hand up, shaking your head and waving him off. “Take your time. We’re waiting on three more.”

Weiss sits down beside Ren, who suddenly pulls her close and whispers something that you can’t quite make out.

You pull your chair out as the waiter approaches and asks you, “Can I start you off with any drinks while you wait?”

You glance over at the tap handles, eyeing each one to see if you know (and prefer) any one in particular. Honestly, you recognize none of them. Time for a random pick. “I’ll start off with-“

Weiss catches your arm, causing you to turn and lock eyes with her. The sudden seriousness and bearing that reflects across her face tells you all that you need to know. _Not now._

The natural smile across your face fades to a look similar to Weiss’s. “Actually, sir… I’m going to hold off and hit you up later.”

“Oh. Well, I’ll be back.” The waiter shoves his leather notebook into a pocket and heads away, checking on other tables.

Your attention is only on the people currently at your table. You lean over to Weiss, shifting your chair closer as well. “What’s going on?”

You see Jaune and Pyrrha look down at their hands on the table. Ren and Nora glance at eachother. Even Nora’s eyes are drooped, switching between you, Weiss, and Ren. Her hands are calmly resting in her lap.

Jaune speaks up, breaking the silence at the table. “We’ll tell you when the rest of the team gets here.”

“Speak of the devils and we shall appear!” Yang calls from behind you. She waves at the table and pulls a chair out, but instead ushers Blake into it. The blonde ends up sitting beside you, with Ruby on the other side of Blake.

Nobody says anything to the team’s entrance, an awkward pause that seems to draw everything to a standstill. Even the conversations and greetings happening around you seem to fade away.

“Something wrong?” Blake tosses the obvious question out.

“Yeah. Just like you all, we were on a mission today.” Pyrrha sighs, glancing at each of her team members before covering Jaune’s hand on the table with her own. “It was in Vacuo. Back in Abbeyton.”

You remember Abbeyton. The place where Ruby got shot. Where BRNZ saved your ass.

All of RWBY is silent; hushed breaths and stoic gazes on Pyrrha. They remember Abbeyton, too. Maybe too well.

“All of a sudden, this flight of half a dozen Nevermores comes up on radar, from out to sea. Jaune and I engaged while Ren and Nora tried to get away.”

 _Six Nevermores?_ From what you know, Jaune and Pyrrha are great pilots with excellent planes, but those odds are near impossible.

Ruby leans forward. “Pyrrha. What happened? What’s going on?”

She glances down to her lap and back up. “Well… BRNZ. That one team that saved you in Abbeyton? Helicopters don’t stand a chance against-“

Jaune interrupts. “They were wiped out. Both birds. Gone in an instant.”

Ruby’s eyes go wide. You hear Weiss’s breath catch just as you feel both of Yang’s hands fall to the table with a heavy thud. Even Blake looks down into her lap, her hands curling into tight fists.

“Gone? That quickly?” Ruby’s voice is a bit higher, her eyes shimmering for a moment as water gathers in them, but she blinks it away.

Ren cuts in, still relatively cool and collected, like Blake. “We thought that you might want to be the team to toast them, since they’re the ones that saved your lives.”

Nora slowly stands and grabs the waiter’s attention. She pantomimes a circle around the table, asking for a round. You see the waiter nod out of the corner of your eye.

“This damn war…” Weiss purses her lips, looking down at her hands with a furrowed brow.

You think back to that mission. What happened right before BRNZ came in? You were in the top floor of the hardware store with Yang. The tank round nearly killed her. You were running low on ammo. Yang’s eyes went red.

Everything starts speeding up in your head, with details and sensations piling on top and sending a sudden spike of adrenaline up through your chest. Everything going to hell, then BRNZ showing up. Sending a rocket into the tank. Lobbing rounds at Grimm.

Something warm wrapping around your hand pulls you away from your thoughts. Weiss’s hand is wrapped around your wrist. Her hand is shaking. Or… no. _Your_ hands are shaking. You didn’t even notice.... Gently, she shifts her hand to loosely lace her fingers with yours as you calm down. Her hand is steady. Solid. An anchor.

You say the first words that come to your mind. “There one minute, gone the next…”  

She shakes her head, closing her eyes. “This war takes people way too quickly. I know that all too well.”

The waiter makes his way to you once again, this time with a whole tray of pint glasses filled with amber liquid. He sets each one down and slides them to each member of the table. You wrap your fingers around the glass, the cool condensation on the side turning to water against your palm.

Still with the same straight face, Blake slowly raises her glass to the center of the table. “Start it, Ruby.”

Ruby closes her eyes and lets out a long breath. She raises her glass, and starts to recite, “They shall not grow old, as we that are left grow old.”

Beside you, Weiss raises her own glass and continues, “Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.”

Blake, too, closes her eyes and follows on. “At the going down of the sun and in the morning…”

Brushing a strand of hair from her face, Yang raises her own and finishes. “We will remember them.”

Not a moment later, all of JNPR lifts their pints, and echoes in unison: “We will remember them.”

One by one, everyone tips their glasses back to take a swig of the amber liquid, and so do you. You set your glass back down, waiting as the silence comes over the table once again.

Minutes tick by before Yang breaks the silence. “Damn, I wish we could’ve bought those guys a drink or two…”

Ruby nods, one finger circling the rim of the mug after dipping into the foam. “Their drinks will never be empty again.”

You decide to chime in, trying to redirect the conversation a bit. “Well, nothing we can do for them now but kick some ass in their name.”

“Now you’re talking,” Nora pipes up from the other end of the table.

“We’ll watch the skies for you, RWBY.” Ren nods, leaning back in his chair.

The corners of your lips begin to tighten into a smile. “Just as soon as I get back in the fight…”

“Just as soon as _we_ get back in the fight.” Ruby corrects you.

“You know what…” Jaune picks up his glass again. “Here’s to us!”

Feeling the tone of conversation begin to pick up again, you jump in, wondering if anybody knows the subtle toast you’re about to propose. “Who’s like us?”

Without missing a beat, Yang calls out, “Damn few!”

 _She knew it._ You tip your glass back, downing a healthy half of the pint before setting it back down. “And they’re all dead.”

Yang smacks her own back down on the table, completely empty save for the bits of foam rolling down the inside. “Good stuff.” She looks over her shoulder, searching for the waiter once again. “Strawberry Sunrise this time. No ice. And one of those little umbrellas.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The toast that Ruby starts is an excerpt from the poem "For the Fallen" by Robert Laurence Binyon. The poem itself was made to give remembrance to fallen soldiers in WWI. I'd highly recommending reading the rest of it.


	26. Time Flies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, sorry, sorry I busted my weekly update promise with this chapter... I've been hard at work crafting "For Thine is the Kingdom" as well as polishing the chapters that come after this. I can't wait to post them....
> 
> Super special thank you to all of you who comment and read on a regular basis. It's honestly one of the big reasons I keep writing. I want to give you all the full story!
> 
> Shout out to flagbearer-or-scouts for being an awesome editor and helping me out with life in general.

It’s been two months since you toasted BRNZ at Three Bears Bar.

Since Yang came back with broken ribs, RWBY has been taken off the line, by Ozpin. His specific words, as you recall, were “A team that is broken is not a team at all. Take the time to rest. I’ll get you back out there soon enough.”

Two weeks ago, he lifted that restriction. Ruby is completely healed with full movement in her arm, and so is Yang. The only thing you have to say for your stab wound is the scar of an incision along your stomach. The staples are gone, as is _most_ of the pain. There are some days when you still feel that slight ripping sensation, as if the knife was still there.

As far as the war goes, nothing has changed. Grimm are still present on each of the continents, but a lot of territory is changing hands. They’ve gotten more aggressive, but so have the four kingdoms. You’ve gotten used to the fighter jets and helicopters taking off in all hours of the night, and you can finally sleep through the lot of them.

But the war keeps taking people. Vanguard lost half a dozen men and women just three weeks ago. Part of you is tired of reading the intel bursts and seeing more people gone. The other part of you can’t wait to get back out there, and pay them back. For BRNZ and Vanguard.

…

You’re standing in the kitchen, stretched out in sleepwear even though it’s closing in on 0800. Shirt off, your dog tags dangling from your neck. Skillet in one hand, spatula in the other. You’ve got two burners on, one sizzling and popping with a full pan of bacon. The other one is heating the skillet in your hand, where three eggs are frying nicely. The faint stings of grease jump up and impact your skin, but this morning, you’re too lazy to throw a shirt on.

Footsteps. The padding of bare feet across the hangar floor. You look over to see Weiss in the dim light, and give her a gentle smile. “Good morning.”

The threads of sleepiness tie her words together into a sleepy groan. “G’morning…” Her hair is down, and she’s wearing that faded blue gown that comes to just above her knees. She opens the refrigerator door, squinting when the bright light suddenly hits her face. She stands there a moment, and pulls out a carton of apple juice to set on the circular table behind her. A deck of cards is strewn across the table, evidence of the game of Euchre you played last night.

Weiss reaches in again, and gasps. You know what she just found.

“Switch. Did you eat all my eggs again?”

“Uh…” You grin, and glance down at the skillet. “No. Definitely not.”

_Thwack._ The empty egg carton hits you across the head when she throws it. Her voice is scolding, but still contains a hint of playfulness on the tail end. “You can’t lie to me anymore.” She shakes her head. “Who puts an empty egg carton _back_ into the fridge anyway?”

“The same guy who made you breakfast.” You reach on the other side of you, where two eggs, already cooked, sit on a plate. Weiss cocks her head when you hand it to her, and throw three pieces of bacon on as well. “You like them over hard, right?”

“Oh.” She begins to smile. Maybe even let out the faint hint of a laugh. “Yes, I do.”

“You’re right. I can’t lie to you anymore.” You turn the burners off, and plate the rest of what you had in both skillets. Three eggs for you, two for Ruby whenever she decides to get up. Blake and Yang said something about going out to breakfast this morning, but as you glance over at their beds… Blake’s is empty, as the pair is cuddled up in a nest of covers in Yang’s bed. Blake’s head on Yang’s chest.

You take a seat next to Weiss after moving some of the cards aside. Four of spades, nine of diamonds, queen of hearts… 

“Morning, you two.” Ruby yawns as she joins you and Weiss in the kitchen. “Breakfast for me, also?”

You turn from your seat beside Weiss. “Yeah. There’s a plate with your name on it.” You turn back to your plate, stabbing another bit of egg and guiding it to your mouth.

“So, what possessed you to make breakfast for us this morning?” Weiss asks between bites.

“Well…” You sigh at the gentle disappointment of knowing that Ruby still hasn’t cleared you for another mission. “Since I’m still out of action, I figured I had to do _something_ for the team. You guys are on call today, aren’t you?”

Ruby sits down across from you with her plate along with a mug with lettering across it that reads ‘It’s also a gun.’ She takes it with cream, and five sugars, as you recall. “No. Not this morning, anyway. We’re supposed to go on the clock this afternoon.”

She shoots a glance at Weiss, and you’re not sure if it’s the fact that Ruby hasn’t smiled yet this morning, or the slight drop in Weiss’s shoulders when their eyes meet, that tips you off first.

“Is… there something you all aren’t telling me?” Your gaze flits between Weiss and Ruby, both of them looking down at their plates for a second.

Weiss gently pokes at one clump of eggs before replying. “I… caught wind of something from a sparky I knew at one of the Atlas control centers. Something big is going down this morning in Mistral. I also haven’t heard from Winter in a week.”

“And…” Ruby holds her mug up, frowning as she swirls it in her hand. “I haven’t heard from Qrow for twice that time.”

You set your fork down and lean forward on your elbows. “Are they okay?”

Weiss sets her own silverware down and rubs her face, gently brushing strands of hair out of it afterwards. “I’m listed as Winter’s next of kin, and so far, nobody has knocked on the door in service dress asking for me. So I guess that’s something.”

She pauses, looking off into space for a very long moment. You’d give a lot to know what thoughts are buzzing behind those ice-blue eyes, but they seem to end as soon as she opens her mouth to speak again. “Thanks for breakfast.” She stands and cleans off her plate in the sink before heading back over to her bunk.

Ruby speaks up, but not too loud so that she doesn’t wake Blake or Yang. “You have any plans today, Weiss?”

The white-haired girl shrugs. “I was gonna disappear into Vale for a bit. I might get a new bottle of wine since we finished that Cabernet last night.”

“Sounds like a fun day.” Finally, Ruby smiles at her. “Switch and I are gonna go to the range again.”

You and Ruby hadn’t talked about going to the range, but… guess that’s going to happen? You’ve been doing a lot of range days with Ruby, trying to improve your proficiency as much as possible.

Ruby chuckles at your raised eyebrow. “You’d be lying if you told me your skills don’t need at least a little more sharpening. It won’t be too bad.”

“Then… You two have fun getting dirty and sweaty. _I’m_ going to enjoy the finer life in Vale.”

“Just make sure you’re back by the afternoon. See ya, Weiss.”

…

“Run it again. That last one was good, but practice makes perfect.” Ruby hands you three more rifle magazines.

You shove them into your combat rig, taking a moment to look down at all of the spent brass casings at your feet. Their dirty gold tint mixes with the dark brown clay of the wrap-around range. Huge earth berms stand all around you, along with a mess of target silhouettes on black paper, all painted with a large orange number. The wrap-around berms keep it so that the range is realistic, as targets stand all around you. However, you don’t have to worry about bullets escaping and hitting something or someone you don’t want them to.

“Same drill, Switch. Standby…”

The drill is simple, but _hard._ Each of the targets are at varying ranges, in different orientations, and the numbers aren’t sequential. Once the buzzer in Ruby’s hand sounds, she’s going to call out a random number. You have to turn and engage that target, wherever it is, while Ruby calls out the next one. It sounds simple, but the numbers stack up quick, you don’t know how many rounds are in your magazines, and you have no clue where each number is in the first place.

_Ding!_

“Seventeen!” Ruby calls out.

You spin, spying the number painted on a target to your right. Your rifle comes up and you fire. One to the chest, one to the head.

As you pull the trigger on the second shot, Ruby tells you her next number. “Two.”

Two. Two. Where’s two? You look around, and find the number at 20 yards, laying sideways on the ground. Rifle at your shoulder.

“Eight!”

You fire, both shots landing half a foot down from the center of his chest.

“Come on, Switch. Clean it up. You’re still on eight.”

Eight. She called out eight in the last drill. It’s to your left. Turn, pull the trigger.

You’ve trained with Thermo enough that you can _feel_ the bolt lock back after the next shot, even through your gloves. Muscle memory guides you to push the mag release, dig a new one out of your vest, and stab it in.

“Four, five, and six.”

Got it. You see five, and raise your weapon. Two shots later and you feel the bolt lock back _again._ “Damn, Ruby…”

You hear her chuckle as you repeat the same procedure. Drop the mag, find a new one, press it in. The more you do it, the quicker you get, even with the stress of the timer beeping right next to your ear.

You catch glimpses of an orange “4” and “6” out of your peripherals. You spin left first, put two rounds through four as Ruby calls out your final number.

“Number one. It’s your last.”

Make it quick, Switch. Transition to the right, find six, put to through the chest, and one square in the forehead.

Bolt locks back.

Number one is right in front of you, five yards out.

You drop Thermo, letting it dangle from your vest by the sling as your hand falls to the sidearm on your hip. Your fingers curl around the grip with the sticky sandpaper feeling of the pistol’s body against your glove. While it only takes a split second to draw, you can distinctly feel every little, fine detail as you do it.

You slap your hands together for more purchase and center the three white dots on the number. Two more shots ring out, different than those coming from Thermo.

You let out a breath and reholster the sidearm, blinking a few times to let the temporary stress ease out of your muscles. You look down at your hands, closing them into fists then gently relaxing.

Ruby slides the timer back into her pocket and takes her ear protection off. “Not bad. You’re getting better.”

“Better?”

She starts to grin. “Yeah. You’ve shaved three seconds off of that drill just today. Still not as good as Blake’s record, but… you might get there some day.”

You unclip your rifle and take your ear protection off as well. “I’m just waiting for the day when you tell me I’m cleared to go on missions again.”

A cold wind starting to blow pushes part of her shaggy hair across her face as she crosses her arms. Her smile fades, and you spy the faint crumple of the skin between her eyebrows. “I’m still thinking about it, Y/N. It’s definitely on my mind.”

“You four need me out there with you…” You slide your gun back into its case and begin walking to the truck you came in on.

“But we don’t need you falling behind or hurting yourself more.” As you walk, she glances down at her boots. “I’ll think about it some more, okay?”

“Alright, Ruby.”

…

You take a glance at your watch as you throw your gym bag into a locker at the fitness center on base. Even though Yang’s got a decent setup at the hangar, the base gym has some things that she doesn’t. In particular, a full combatives room and a bigger selection of weights and machines.

Your watch reads 1230. RWBY is supposed to be ready to roll at 1430. You’ve got about an hour and a half left in the gym before you need to head back. You’ve already got your routine covered with the weights in the gym, and for once, your wound isn’t hurting you. At all, in fact. You’ve come back to your locker to grab some hand wraps out of your gym bag, and now you’re heading to the combatives room to take a swing or two at a punching bag.

You start to wrap your hands, methodically and meticulously, as you walk through the halls. One wrap after another, making sure to keep your hand spread, and to evenly cover and reinforce as much as possible.

One wrap after another.

You’re about to push open the door when you stop dead in your tracks. You hear a voice on the other side of the door, and… it’s… Blake? All the sounds of a fight are present: gentle grunting, heavy breathing, the sound of bodies rolling and scraping against the floor?

Wait a second. That’s _definitely_ Yang’s laugh.

You slowly push the door open.

Sure enough, there’s Blake and Yang. But not in any kind of fighting position you’ve seen before.

“Working hard, or hardly working?”

Yang shoots up from her position on top of Blake. “Switch?! What are you-“

As you watch, Blake sits up and wraps an arm around Yang’s neck in a choke very similar to the one Weiss used on the Lieutenant.

“Agh…” Yang’s breaths come sharp. “Blake…”

Blake pulls her backward against the mat, wrapping her own legs around Yang’s waist to seal the position. “Checkmate,” is all Blake says as Yang furiously starts tapping a hand against the Faunus’s thigh.

Blake releases her hold and Yang lurches forward, panting. “Damn, sweetheart… you’re almost as good as me.”

“Almost? I just choked you, Yang. You’d be unconscious or dead in a real fight.”

Yang turns to be on top of her girlfriend. “And then you’d be sad.” She lets her weight down, relaxing and pressing her lips to Blake’s.

Alright, back to wrapping your hands. One wrap after another. Only a few more circles and you’re done.

The blue mats of the room only cover about half of the floor, with the rest being linoleum. A window in the corner brings only a faint amount of natural light in, while the fluorescent lights lining the ceiling provides the rest. There’s a collection of different sized punching bags hanging over a section of the linoleum, while doors leading to closets line the wall to your right.

You’re already warmed up and stretched. You step up to one of the lighter bags, and get to work.

Thirty minutes go by, this time with Blake and Yang _actually_ mock-fighting eachother on the mat.

 “Hey, Switch. You’re never gonna get better hitting a bag all day.” Yang calls to you from the mats. She’s still laying on the ground, her hair pulled back and her brow glistening with sweat.

Blake is standing up, shrugging sweats on and shaking her head. “Don’t let her get in your head.”

You stop wailing on the bag, watching it swing back and forth from the recent flurry of punches you threw at it. The chain creaks at you as it swings. “No, I’d like to do some live rolling for a bit, actually. I need to get back in the game.”

Yang sits up, cracking her knuckles before rolling out the kinks in her neck. “Then come over here and show me what you got, hotshot.”

You smile, confident in your abilities as a ground fighter but also slightly concerned about how hard Yang is about to go. After removing your gloves and handwraps, you get onto your knees on the mat in front of her.

“I’m heading out. I’ll see you two later.” Blake calls from the threshold of the door.

A split-second later, as you try to bid Blake goodbye, a sweaty mass of blonde hair and lilac eyes tackles you backwards onto the mat. “Too slow, Switch.”

You grunt, trying to make a bit of room and sneak a leg out or find any bit of leverage that you can on her. But she’s good.

She locks one of your arms down across your body, and before you know it, she’s behind you, grabbing your neck in the crook of her elbow and squeezing. It’s choking you, slowly. Yang could put the pressure on from this position and make you tap in a second… but she’s not. “Think, Y/N. You’re not completely helpless. Don’t waste your effort fighting the choke. Do you see you have at least three options from here?”

You stop fighting the choke for a second, and think. Her legs. Ankles in particular. You keep fighting the choke with one hand, and reach down. Grab. Twist.

Yang gasps in sudden pain and releases you with her legs. You roll, quickly getting on top and getting the upper hand. You still have an arm of hers, too.

She taps your thigh twice. “Good. Remember to think. Don’t get tunnel vision. Now get off. My scroll’s buzzing.”

You can’t help but grin at her praise, but you also can’t shake the feeling that she was going easy on you for those 30 seconds of rolling. You stand up, and lean over to grab her yellow gym bag and toss it to her.

Moments of digging through it pass, and she pulls out her scroll, answering it. “Hey, sis! What’s up?”

Yang’s face dims, as she gets up. “Yeah... Switch is here with me.” A pause, the blonde listening to your team leader on the other end. “Uh… yeah. Okay. You got it.”

She hangs up and drops the device into her bag. “We have to go. Now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... what do you think will happen next?


	27. It Never Gets Easier

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay, come on down from the cliff! 
> 
> Strap in, everyone. Let's see where this takes us.
> 
> Eternal thanks to flagbearer_or_scouts for her editing help, and special thanks to all of you for the support you give me!

The hangar is only about a half-mile away from the base gym. You and Yang cross that distance in record time. Yang busts through the back door with you, and tosses her gym bag up onto her bunk. It doesn’t quite make it, and falls to the ground.

Weiss is hastily pulling Myrtenaster out of its case. Blake scrambles to put on the thick pants and boots that she wears into combat. Ruby is already dressed, her brow furrowed and the casual smile she normally sports is nowhere to be found. She is sorting through something that appears to be a large map.

“Ruby, what’s going on?” Yang calls to her sister over the commotion.

Your team leader points out of the main hangar doors to a cargo plane with its back ramp open. “That plane is leaving in 20 minutes for an emergency trip to a forward base in Mistral. Ozpin ordered us onto it.”

The plane is already spun up, all four engines idling. The heat rising from the exhaust distorts your view of the grey wings. However, from the winglets on the ends, you know that it’s a C-17.

“What?!” Yang’s surprise mirrors your own.

“I’ll explain more on the bird. Get your stuff together.” Ruby commands.

Yang stands there for a moment, then nods and kicks herself into gear. It’s mesmerizing to watch all four girls prepping themselves in their own way.

A moment later, you realize that you’re just standing there, too. Doing nothing. A thought crosses your mind… “Ruby.”

Ruby frowns, her silver eyes come up off of the paper to lock with yours. She doesn’t say anything.

“Am I on the mission?”

Ruby doesn’t look away from you. Instead, your own mind wanders as you wait for her answer. Your gaze drifts down to Ruby’s rig. The taut straps supporting the weight of twenty pounds of equipment. A Velcro patch reading ‘A+POS’ beside a larger one that reads ‘RWBY’ in large block letters. The dull, oxidized chain supporting the dog tags concealed under her shirt. You’re growing uneasy. Breaths coming short, quick, and quiet from your chest tightening.

“You’re on. Suit up.”

…

Twenty minutes later to the second, you’re pushed back in your seat as the engines throttle up, and the cargo plane lurches into the air. The climb out is bumpy, as every pocket of turbulence throws you in different directions against the uncomfortable canvas chair. Weiss sits on your left, Ruby on your right, with Blake and Yang across the row from you. The light from one of the passenger door windows casts a pale glow across your whole team.

You’re sharing the cargo bay with pallets of what appears to be a mix of medical supplies and artillery rounds. Behind those is the UTV that you and Ruby took to shoot when you were still healing. It’s facing out the back, ready to be offloaded quickly once you touch down.

“Alright… time to tell you what Oz told me.” Ruby leans forward, elbows on her knees and fidgeting with her gloves. Undoing the Velcro, adjusting each individual finger, refastening it. Frowning, and doing the same thing over again.

You turn, as does Weiss, Blake, and Yang, to look at your team leader.

“The situation in the south front of Mistral is about to fall apart. Grimm have pushed up past the suburbs of Begonia, and that threatens the capitol. Atlas troops are stretched thin, but they’re giving us Vanguard and some smaller units. If we can’t push the Grimm out of Begonia or at least hold until one of the other kingdoms can send a larger force… Mistral’s gonna be gone within the week.”

Weiss leans forward and shakes her head. “Wait… how did the Grimm punch through like that?”

Ruby sighs, taking a moment before hesitantly replying. “My guess? Spec ops, armor, and air. Vacuo hasn’t been getting a lot of attacks recently… so the Grimm are probably repurposing.”

You sit back in your seat, bringing a hand up to rub your face. Underneath, your stomach churns like a concrete mixer, and it’s not from air sickness or altitude. “My first mission back, and it’s the toughest fight we’ve ever had.”

You hear Yang’s voice faintly over the drone of the engines, and you tense. Every muscle in your body flexing. “Like I said, it never gets easier.”

…

The tires screech and you’re bounced in your seat when the plane touches down. You start picking up the only two things you brought besides what you’re already wearing: the rifle case containing Thermo, and your trauma bag with tourniquets, chest seals, hemostatic gauze, a litter… everything you need to save a life.

You try to get a glimpse out of the small window at the side door. All you see is a cloud of dust. You just landed on a dirt runway. Not all that uncommon for forward bases like this.

Your whole team is quiet as the plane taxis off of the runway, but that all changes the instant that it comes to a stop. The back ramp drops down, and about a dozen soldiers clad in tattered and stained camouflage rush in, unhooking the cargo and wheeling it out the back. You can’t help but notice their sunken eyes with bags underneath. Each and every one moves mechanically, none of them attempting to make conversation with you or each other.

As soon as they have the UTV unhooked, Blake jumps in the driver’s seat as the rest of the team either piles in or hangs on somehow. You throw your bags into the fabricated roof rack on top of the roll bar just before she drives it out of the plane.

Your eyes adjust quickly to the brighter lighting on the dirt airstrip, and you see a familiar face. Black hair with the taint of grey around the edges, bangs falling close to his eyes while the rest stays spiked backwards. A sideways cross pendant around his neck. Slight stubble, evidence of at least three or four days without shaving.

Qrow Branwen. Ruby’s eyes light up. “Qrow? What are you doing here?”

“I’ll tell you, kiddo. Gimme a ride.”

Ruby shifts over just enough so that Qrow can sit halfway on the front seat. He points to a building nestled in between rows of older green tents. “Head that way. I’ll talk as we go.”

Blake pulls the wheel and points the side-by-side towards that building as Qrow continues.

“Heard you guys got taken off the list for a good two months…” He leans back in his seat as much as he can, and grabs hold off the roll bar to keep himself steady. The glint of the metal rings on his hand catches your eye for a brief moment.

Ruby sighs. “Yeah… I guess we needed that break, but with the way things are going…”

“I get it. You want to be out there fighting. Especially after what happened to BRNZ.”

Yang speaks up from the back, beside you. “You knew about them?”

Qrow smirks, turning enough so that you see a lazy half-smile creep up his face. “I know everything.”

Yang is quick to reply, immediately following off of his words. “Then why are we here?”

He jumps off just as Blake is coming to a stop in front of the building. “Follow me.”

You and the rest of the team dismount. The building isn’t much of a building at all- treated plywood walls coated with a very bad layering of brown paint. The door itself is just a screen, and the windows are simply holes cut in the plywood. Green tarps act as curtains. It’s just about as bad as a tent. Maybe a bit worse.

Inside is a mess. Dozens of people, some of which you recognize wearing Vanguard uniforms, but most of them in Mistrali fatigues. Just like the ones who unloaded your plane, all of these men and women seem… tired. Nearly defeated. Unlike Vanguard’s clothes and your own, many of them are covered in stains. Some green, some brown, some… faintly red.

“Alright everyone, bring it in.” Qrow makes his way to a central table, placing both of his hands on the edge and leaning heavily onto it. You find your way to the front row, eyeing the large map scribbled with black, blue, and red ink. “Now that we’ve got all of the team leaders here, I’ll walk you through the game plan. We’re calling this one Operation Afterburner.”

Qrow takes out a flask from an inner pocket, and quickly swigs whatever liquid might be inside. Beside you, you hear Weiss gently gasp, but it’s not from Qrow’s sudden display of alcoholism. You glance at her, and follow her eyes across the room. Leaning against the wall is Winter, blankly staring at the ground. Without hesitation, Weiss edges her way out of the circle around the table and makes a beeline for her sister. You follow.

When you get a closer look at Winter, your eyes widen and you recoil slightly. It hits you all at once. The bruise across her cheek. Her hair, dirty and gleaming from oils but yet still pulled up into a hasty bun. The lack of luster in her ice-blue eyes that normally mirror Weiss’s. You recognize the scent of combat: sweat and gunpowder mixed with the sour odor of dried blood.

She speaks lowly so as not to break into Qrow’s conversation. “Weiss... I’m not in the mood for any antics or emotional reunions.”

Weiss is still looking her sister over. You can see the words, the questions, turning over behind her eyes. “You… look terrible… what happened to you? Are you okay?”

Winter pinches the bridge of her nose, her other hand curling into a noticeable white-knuckled fist. “I haven’t slept in over 36 hours, I just watched a dozen Vanguard get slaughtered, I lost a fellow Atlas specialist, and on top of that, Begonia is in Grimm hands.” Her hand drops to slam against the wall, as she glares at Weiss. “ _How do you think I am, Weiss?_ ”

Qrow glances your way, as do a few of the soldiers on the outskirts, but the conversation around the map continues as if nothing happened.

“Winter, I…”

“And on top of that, I get to watch my little sister join in on this mess… Weiss, I didn’t want you here. This op isn’t going to go well.”

The color starts to drain from Weiss’s face. But whether it’s because of Winter’s doubt in her or because of Winter’s outlook on the op, you’re not sure. Still, you see a ripple of sudden anger shoot across her face. She steps up to Winter, putting a finger in her sister’s chest and opening her mouth to speak, but you catch Weiss’s wrist before she does.

You shoot a glare back at Winter, lowering Weiss’s arm and stepping between them. “Well, like it or not, _Major Schnee_ , we’re here, and we’re going to fight our hearts out. We can handle this, whether you believe it or not.”

Winter sighs, pursing her lips and letting her fists relax. “I’m sorry. That was uncalled for. As I said… we’re all under a lot of stress, here.”

Beside you, Weiss brushes her bangs out of her face and shakes her head. The anger calms from her eyes, too. “It’s okay… I can take care of myself, Winter. You know that, right?”

“Yeah. I do. I’m just antsy. I shouldn’t have blown it off on you.” Winter pushes off of the wall and places a hand on Weiss’s shoulder when you let go. Winter is smiling, but… it’s forced. The stress and tension are still weighing on her, and you know that Weiss can see straight through it.

 

“… and that’s where RWBY comes in.” Your attention is drawn back to Qrow’s planning. Along with Weiss, you nudge your way back into the circle.

“Once the ground convoys and tank column are at the Grimm perimeter, helicopters carrying RWBY and scattered Mistrali Airborne fireteams are going to provide limited close air support to help the convoys punch through. With luck, one of three groups will force the Grimm to fall back, and then we’ll establish a foothold for those helicopters to hover and drop the teams via fast-rope.”

“This seems awfully risky, sir… even if we do make one of those footholds, we have no clue how the Grimm are going to react,” One of the Vanguard team leaders pipes up. His concern is echoed by nods and murmurs throughout the room.

Qrow shakes his head, unscrewing his flask once more. “It’s the best we could come up with. I know this plan seems bullshit… and that’s why I’m going to be with you all on the ground. Colonel Goodwitch will be circling and coordinating the air element. She’s flying in as we speak.” He chuckles, eyes dancing all over the map. “I’m putting a lot of trust in RWBY and Vanguard. The Grimm aren’t counting on you being there. If any of you see an opportunity to turn this thing around… take it.”

A sigh and a hard blink betrays his composure, hinting at his own weariness. “Good luck, everyone.”

…

No more than a half hour later, you’re sitting on the edge of a helicopter with your legs dangling out of it. Your rifle is strapped across your chest, and your trauma bag is resting heavily on your back. You’re loaded for bear… three more rifle magazines than you normally carry, two more pistol mags, but at the forefront of your mind are the spare tourniquets, gauze, IVs, and hemostats that you scrounged from the base. Silently, you pray that you don’t have to use any of it. But… rest assured… you’re ready to.

You glance over your shoulder at the Mistrali fireteam sitting in the fold-down canvas chairs of the helicopter. It’s a silent helicopter ride… one soldier looks down at his dog tags, pulled out from under his shirt. Another has his hands clasped together, mouthing the words to something that seems like a prayer. The team leader, by the looks of it, pulls out a tin of black paste. Eye black, for football or baseball.

The nametape on her chest reads “Vasquez.” She dips her fingers in the paste and starts drawing up stripes across her face.

“Vasquez, what’s that for?” You ask, curious. It looks more like war paint than eye black.

The right side of her face turns upward in a crooked smile. That’s when you see the chip missing from one of her teeth. “Psychological warfare, sir. Just making sure that the Grimm piss their pants at the first glimpse they get of Airborne.”

“Hell yeah.” You give her a thumbs-up with a gloved hand. “We’ll kick some ass today.”

Ruby turns to the pilots, speaking words that you can’t quite make out before she turns back to you and the Mistralis. “Listen up! Once we’re over the target, expect heavy resistance. Remember, speed kills! A-box shots only, keep it tight. Everyone goes home today.”

Everyone seems to nod in agreement. Your heartrate is a pounding drumbeat in your ears. On the horizon, you spot the skylines of lower buildings. Begonia.

Ruby’s words echo through your mind.

_Expect heavy resistance._

_Speed kills._

_Keep it tight._

_Everyone goes home today._

 “Thirty seconds to target!” Ruby calls out, while holding up three fingers followed by a solid fist.

Vasquez shouts to her own troops. “I better see each of you on the other side.”

You spy Blake and Yang holding hands, just like they’ve done in the past.

Weiss sighs, and slowly racks the charging handle of Myrtenaster. She reaches up and zips her jacket the rest of the way to stave off the colder air.

Your thoughts start to pick up, still remembering Ruby’s words, but you quiet them with focus and resolve on the task at hand. In a bit more than an instant, everything else goes blank. You’re a warrior again, what you’ve been trained for. Nothing else matters. _Flip the switch._

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd absolutely love to hear what you're thinking right now...


	28. OP Afterburner: Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *sits down in a folding chair, and crosses my legs, smiling as I post this chapter*
> 
> By far, my favorite chapter to write (so far). Hope you enjoy it. Super shout-out to flagbearer_or_scouts once again, she helps make this story great.

_Crack._

You instinctively drop down to below the half-wall of the gas station you and the rest of the team is fighting out of. Every single window on the front end, facing the pumps, is blown out.

The near miss threw concrete dust into your face, forcing you to close your eyes quickly in an attempt to clear them. But you know that you have to get back on your rifle. Fast.

It’s a firefight. With the convoys bogged down closer to the outskirts, and the tank column unable to push in any farther, you and RWBY are on your own. The sky is beginning to darken as afternoon comes to an end and evening takes over. It will be dark in no more than an hour, and despite the fact that you’re sweating, the temperature is falling rapidly.

Yang starts shouting at you. “Y/N! Grimm at your one, get fire on ‘em!”

You lift her SAW in your hands and rest it on the wall, finding two soldiers in black and red sprinting from cover to cover. It’s an easy shot, about 50 yards out. You lead the one in front and squeeze the trigger, keeping the muzzle pressed down. The weight of her gun does most of the work, absorbing the recoil as both soldiers take rounds and fall to the ground.

It’s been like this for an hour and a half. You dug in on the wall, shooting Yang’s machine gun out of the gas station. She’s been ten feet to your right, feeding you ammunition as you go. Blake is around the backside, protecting your rear from any Grimm trying to work around your position. Weiss is on the left wall, and Ruby is on the right. It’s a solid defensive position, as long as you have the ammo to hold it.

Ammo that you’re burning through right now.

Yang hollers at you again, this time bringing your rifle up to her shoulder and letting a few rounds go. “Three more, 10 o’clock.”

Weiss pipes up as you shift to try and get an angle on the troops Yang just called out. “Make that four. Four on the left!”

You still don’t have an angle, even as Weiss and Yang fire single rounds but it’s too late. They’ve already gained the ground and made it behind a small mound with a grey sign that reads “Begonia Commons.” It’s part of the landscaping for an outlet mall. The mound can’t be any more than 30 yards out.

“Weiss, put a 40 on that fucking mound!” You try to call out to Weiss, ducking as another volley of bullets comes in.

Ruby cuts in as Weiss reaches back on her belt to fish out the round. “No! Save those. We can do this! Keep it together.”

You swear under your breath. _Damn it._ You can smell your gun barrel starting to heat up, like meat left on a burning grill for hours. “Yang, I’m gonna need a new box soon.”

“You got it! I’ve only got three more after this one.” She lays down onto her back, well below the line of sight of the wall. She undoes the tan straps of a pouch on the side of her vest, and digs out a full, new magazine containing a belt of shiny brass bullets.

With something less than dexterity, you manage to get the nearly empty box magazine on the underside of the SAW. Yang slides the new one to you amongst shards of shattered glass and blown open soda cans. The floor is faintly sticky from the spilled soft drinks.

Even through the crackles of glass and bangs of gunfire, Weiss’s scream makes your blood run cold. But it’s not a cry of pain or malice. It’s _fear._

“Grenade!”

You turn and see something that looks like a black baseball rolling into the middle of the gas station. Your breath catches, but you don’t think. You react.

You drop Yang’s SAW and surge forth from your kneeling position, closing the distance in a fraction of a second. You dive, gathering the grenade into your chest and curling your legs up around it.

You close your eyes, counting each and every breath. And waiting.

 

 

**Two and a half hours earlier:**

“Ropes!” Ruby calls from the front of the Pave Hawk.

Weiss and Yang both grab the thick green coils and heave them out the sides of the helicopter. You and Blake step up first, slinging your rifles over your back. Grip the rope with your hands and feet. Slide down, using the friction of your boots in conjunction with your hands.

When you hit the ground, you step away to give the rest in the helicopter room to land when they slide down. Weiss is on the deck next, taking up a position directly to your rear and looking the opposite direction.

Vasquez is almost on the ground when movement catches your eye on the far edge of the park where you’ve just landed. Black uniforms, red accents. You swing the muzzle of Thermo upwards and put the reticle onto the center of mass as he heaves a rocket launcher to his shoulder.  You think you can maybe hear one of the pilots or Ruby shout a warning.

You’re squeezing the trigger when a wisp of white smoke followed by a red fireball launches its way towards the helicopter. He falls backward once you follow up with a second shot, but you look upwards to see the helicopter rotate and miss the rocket by mere inches.

However, the rotating of the helicopter tosses Yang off of the rope. She lands on the ground on her side, groaning in pain and clutching her shoulder.

“Yang!” Blake calls out to her girlfriend, but she doesn’t break from her position in the temporary circle.

“Ngh… I’m fine.” She rolls onto her back, clenching her teeth as blond locks fall into a mess across her face. “Fucking dislocated my shoulder…”

You see Ruby’s form drop to the ground and wave both of her hands up at the pilots. One of the pilots gives her a sharp salute and releases the toggles on the ropes. “Yang, can you fight?”

She glances at her machine gun, laying on the ground beside her. “Yeah, but I can’t carry the SAW.”

“Got it. Switch, you’re on the gun. Stick close to Yang so she can feed you ammo. Yang, can you carry his Mark 18?

“I’m not out of action.” Yang rolls to her stomach and pushes herself up, only putting weight on her left arm to gain her feet. She motions to you to give her your rifle, and you run over to trade it for her.

Her machine gun is heavy and awkward. It doesn’t fit your hands like Thermo does, but you know from your training it has a lot more firepower. The tubular fiber optic site is a stark contrast to the thinner holographic reticle that you’re used to. You’ve never trained specifically with Yang’s gun, but you’re familiar with the platform. You can handle it.

Ruby surveys the field, ensuring that the circle RWBY and the Mistrali troops just formed stays the same. You’re currently in a soccer field, with lines still painted on short, groomed grass. Large deciduous trees, most of the leaves already fallen dot the whole property. To your right is a children’s playground. There’s something morbid about watching the helicopter fly over the jungle bars and swing set where kids used to play.

Ruby digs through her vest and pulls out a map, eyeing it for a moment as the sound of the helicopter that brought you in fades out. “Alright, here’s the plan, RWBY. We’re going to head directly south, and spearhead into the heart of Begonia. Charge to contact and feel out this approach for the convoys. Vasquez, I want you to push west until you meet the first convoy. Flank any Grimm you can, and give those trucks a fighting chance to make it in.”

Vasquez nods. “Got it. Are you guys going to be good, just walking into the hot zone like that?”

Ruby starts folding up the map, her lips tightened and folded together. “We’ll be okay. Just make sure that the convoys can punch through. We need their support and firepower. Stay in touch. Let us know if-“

All of a sudden, the single crack of a bullet rips through the formation, and you hear the heavy _thwack_ of a round hitting Kevlar. The Mistrali soldier in the formation, no more than ten feet from you falls to the ground, coughing and clutching his chest. His teammates rush to his side, but you and the rest of RWBY turn to the direction the shot came from.  A single word touches your mind: _Sniper._

Multiple curses are uttered throughout the formation. Ruby turns to Vasquez, waving her hand vigorously. “Go! Get to the convoy. We’ll handle this.”

You scan the area where the shot came from, but you’re already on the move with the rest of the team. Hefting Yang’s machine gun already runs you short of breath at the light sprint. Yang is right on your heels.

Where could that shot have come from? It was accurate, but it didn’t penetrate the armor. Given what you know about Grimm and their marksmen, that shot had to have been less than 300 yards out, if that. There’s a cropping of pine trees farther out, there’s a grey-sided barn, some kind of shelter for picnics… the rest is sealed in by high privacy fencing that leads to a subdivision. Where else could he be?

You spot a flash of light from the pine trees. The glint of a scope. Grimm don’t use the proper equipment to eliminate that flash.

“In the trees, at our 11 o’clock!” You shoulder Yang’s SAW from a standing position, and close one eye to focus the reticle at the base of the trees. “Heads down! I’m suppressing!”

Squeeze the trigger, let off. Three to five round bursts to keep the pressure on but to conserve ammunition, too.

No rounds from that sniper come in while you’re shooting. Yang stays close to you as you move to one of the larger trees in the park. It will give you cover, but your primary job right now is to keep that sniper’s head down.

Keep shooting and moving, lean against the tree trunk when you get there. There’s a trail of spent brass cartridges littering the grass.

“Switch, cool it!” Yang’s hand taps your shoulder. “Let him pop up again. Ruby can take care of it.”

Sure enough, you take your finger off of the trigger and look around. Ruby is resting the barrel of her rifle on a park bench on your left. One eye closed. Finger already wrapped around the trigger, but relaxed. Just like the day you were shooting with her on the range.

You see her shift slightly, repositioning the gun. The rising and falling of her chest stops for a split second. She sees him.

 _Gunshot._ _Gunshot._

“He’s down.” Ruby pulls away from the scope with a smile and a sigh. Relief.

…

As you cut through the suburbs beside the park, explosions echo in the distance. The tank column is trying to push into the city, but judging from the fact that Weiss hasn’t heard anything over the comms… it’s not going well. Or it’s going too well.

In a line against the siding of a two-story brick, Blake makes the first dash across a cul-de-sac while you post up on the corner to cover Blake’s crossing. Yang follows, then Ruby, and Weiss who taps you on the shoulder when she goes. Ruby waves you over once she’s established on the other side.

As you run, you see signs of fighting all around the subdivision. Burnt cars, broken asphalt from explosions, holes in walls, and shot-out windows. In particular… the fresh red-brown stain on a concrete driveway next to the lines and numbers laid out for a game of hopscotch.

“Last man.” You say to Blake as you pass her after your run.

“Team, hold.” Weiss takes a knee, closing her eyes as if listening to something. Radio traffic. “Go for RWBY.”

The entire team is circled up on a backyard patio of the house you just ran to. Metal chairs with cushions surround a glass-top table next to you. A charcoal grill rests on the corner of the patio. The awning that used to cover everything is now ripped to shreds.

 “Understood, Qrow. We’ll push straight in and see if we can take the pressure off of you.”

You search Weiss’s face for any sign of the information she just received, but there’s none. She’s always stoic when she’s talking. It’s one of her strengths- calm under stress.

“We sent a team of Mistrali Airborne to regroup with the convoy, but haven’t kept up comms. Did they make it?”

A pause. Listening.

“Damn.”

Another pause, with Weiss shaking her head.

“Vanguard will do their job. We’ve seen them in action.”

_Crack._

A bullet comes in and ricochets off of the grill, sending sparks into the air. Instinctively, you drop to the ground.

Weiss keys in her comm one more time. “We’re in contact, Qrow. We’ll proceed with the plan. RWBY out.”

You crawl up next to Yang, who was the closest when the first round came in. Now, you can hear the cracks and hisses passing over your head..“Yang, what’s the count?”

“Just a squad, from the look of it. They know we’re here,” is her reply.

Blake chimes in. “Easy for us.”

Ruby takes command after Blake’s comment. “Switch, you hold that corner and keep their heads down. Yang, feed him ammo. Weiss, you and I are going far right, back across the street. Blake… do what you do best.”

…

“We’re clear left! Switch, go!” Ruby yells at you from her position on the front deck of the red house. Single story. Luxury car in the driveway- the object you were just using as cover.

You and the team have fought your way through the entirety of the subdivision, pushing Grimm back and eliminating a few along the way. The red house is at the very edge, and ‘left’ will take you across the main road. The closest building that you can make it to is a gas station.

You glance at Weiss as she reloads. You look eyes when she finishes, and tell her to cover you. She nods in understanding and stands, pointing her gun barrel over the roof of the car as you start to sprint.

All of RWBY starts firing when you run, but there are still puffs of brown and grey dust that kick up in front of you as you go. The run seems much, much longer than you originally anticipated. By the time you crash through the glass of the large bay windows, you’re out of breath. Completely gassed.

But you have to cover the rest of the team on their run. You smile in relief when you look out through the window you just crashed through.

You have at least three targets in a perfect crossfire, and you don’t waste time in jumping on Yang’s SAW and sending a hail of lead their direction. You watch as all three are cut down, seeing the blood spray against the yellow siding of the house.

One more stands up and starts to run. With the rest of his team gone, there’s nothing he can do. You put the reticle on his back and pull the trigger, but nothing happens.

_Jammed._

You start opening up the machine gun, mechanically running through mental checklists to find the source of the stoppage, but you’re interrupted when Weiss and Blake vault over you and into the gas station. Ruby and Yang aren’t far behind.

You find a slightly uncrimped round in the feed. You clear it and reload your gun while Ruby calls out:

“One up.”

Weiss: “Two up.”

Blake: “Three up.”

Yang: “Four up.”

You: “Five up.”

…

**Current:**

“Grenade!”

You turn and see something that looks like a black baseball rolling into the middle of the gas station. Your breath catches, but you don’t think. You react.

You drop Yang’s SAW and surge forth from your kneeling position, closing the distance in a fraction of a second. You dive, gathering the grenade into your chest and curling your legs up around it.

You close your eyes, counting each and every breath. And waiting.

Before you closed your eyes, you saw Ruby dive behind the counter. Weiss gasps, her eyes wide and horrified. Blake and Yang dropped completely to the ground.

Three breaths. Four breaths.

Nothing.

Five. Six? Your heart is racing in your ears.

_It’s a dud?_

Another body sliding in beside you. Yang’s voice. Reaching into your curled form and whisking the grenade out before hurling it back out of the window. Left-handed. She whispers, from either disbelief or shock. “You lucky son of a bitch…”

Diesel engines. Large, high-caliber guns going off.   _The convoy?_ You don’t hear the hisses and cracks of bullets bouncing off of the walls of the gas station anymore.

Your eyes are still closed, but you whisk them open as Weiss hauls you to a sitting position against one of the shelves dividing the gas station aisles.

 “Sit,” is the command. Her hands dance over you, moving and checking for blood that could well up at any instant. Her eyes are focused on your body, refusing to look up into your own.

“Weiss, it was a dud. I’m fine.” You try to catch her hands to stop her. To break her out of her shock. In the background, you hear Ruby call something about the convoy arriving, but it all seems distant in your ears.

The woman in front of you—the Ice Queen, as some say—still can’t stop looking you over. She tries to break out of your grip.

“ _Weiss.”_ It comes out loud, stern, and much more forced than you mean to. Your hands are shaking as you hold her wrists, as if your entire body has just absorbed a wave of energy, with no way to release it. Weiss pulls back and looks up into your eyes. They soften for an instant, then sharpen as she pushes herself to her feet.

“What the hell were you thinking, Y/N?”

You cock your head as you start to stand up with her. “Huh?”

“Just diving on a grenade like that? Throwing your life away?”

Out of the corner of your eye, Yang’s gaze narrows at Weiss as she steps up to the Ice Queen, but you don’t want anyone to intervene. Not now.

Weiss grabs a hold of your collar, pulling you closer as her voice rises to a shout. “Do you know what that would’ve done to the team?” Water beginning to form at the corners of her ice-blue eyes. She pulls you even closer, the grip tightening on you. “ _To me?!”_

Your breath catches. Yang takes a step backwards. Behind the counter, Ruby’s hand comes up to her mouth. The bullets have stopped coming in, and you still hear the engines of trucks outside.

In an instant, Weiss softens. The anger fades from her face and the grip on your collar loosens. Her mouth slightly open in disbelief at what she just said. Red begins to creep up to her cheeks, and she turns away to hide her face.

Anything you can think of saying just stays choked in your throat.

Just like when you jumped on the grenade… you don’t think. You react.

You wrap your arms around Weiss’s waist, and pull her as close as your combat gear will let you. You close your eyes and lean forward, asking and _begging_ for her to want the same thing that you want right now.

She doesn’t push away. She doesn’t call out.

She grabs you. Her gloved hands firmly latch onto the back of your arms to pull you in, too. Your lips meet hers… and you wish that the moment when your lips lock with hers could just last forever. However, the heat of her skin mixed with sweat and dust from hours of combat reminds you that just outside, a _war_ is still going on.

Weiss pulls away, breathing through her mouth and still latched onto your arms. Still, any thoughts that you try to force to form themselves into words stop in your throat. You just hope and pray that maybe, just maybe Weiss can understand your gaze, and feel the pounding in your chest.

Slowly, Weiss reaches down and picks up Yang’s SAW and pushes it into your hands. You now have an even more important job to do, one that’s echoed and confirmed by Weiss’s gentle caress of your cheek.

_Come back alive._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *still sitting there, smiling and waving* Thoughts?


	29. OP Afterburner: Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello again!
> 
> So... it happened! Reader/Weiss... Things are going to get interesting, aren't they? Thank you all so much for all the comments and support you gave me on the last chapter! I tried to respond to all of them as they came in. You all rock for sticking with me so far and giving this fic a chance. My way to pay you all back is to keep writing! Again, thank you!
> 
> Enjoy!

 

Your moment with Weiss is short-lived. As much as you’d love to stay there and gaze into those big seas of ice, a familiar voice calls to you from the radio. It’s unusual that it’s coming to your personal team frequency instead of to Weiss’s command frequency.

“RWBY, this is Goodwitch. I need you on that convoy. Qrow and the other group of vehicles is pinned down about a klick from your position.” She’s probably circling the area in one of the orbiting helicopters, but you can’t know for sure.

“Ma’am, RWBY 1. You want us to un-pin them?” Ruby calls back this time, instead of Weiss.

“Precisely. Get there fast, but don’t take any unnecessary risks. Is your team still fit to fight?”

“Affirmative. We’ll punch through to Qrow.” Ruby vaults over the counter where she had been taking cover, and jogs outside to the convoy.

You glance back at Weiss, who shoots you a smile and reaches forward to put a hand on your shoulder with a squeeze. You follow Ruby, wrapping Yang’s SAW in your arms to make it easier to carry. When you get outside… you see the remnants of the battle you’ve been fighting. Torched asphalt and scorched earth. Bullet holes and chunks taken out of the cinder blocks all around the building. The black grenade that never went off. A neon sign reading ‘open’ flashes on and off.

“Spread out amongst the vehicles. Weiss, I want you up front with the convoy leader. Everyone else, fit in where you can.”

You all give her a silent nod of approval and spread out to your respective vehicles. Whether by random pick or instinct, you pick the third one in the column, directly behind Weiss. It’s a standard up-armored Humvee, painted in Mistral colors with a large yellow sun on the side, like the way some Huntsmen and Huntresses paint a black spade on the side of their vehicles. Looking at it… every vehicle in the column has a different emblem painted on it.

Before you even get to the vehicle, the door gets pushed open by a blue-haired Mistrali soldier on the inside. You clamber in, resting Yang’s SAW between your legs for now. The soldier beside you gives you a nod when you climb in, his hair slicked back and held in place by goggles placed high on his forehead.

The inside is scattered with spent brass casings that rustle and clink together as you slide into the hard, metal seat. When you close your door… you see a spattering of blood on the door and window. It’s dark and sludgy—veinous blood. The owner of the wound could still be alive.

“Need anything?” The Mistrali who opened the door for you asks the question, rubbing a hand over his eyes.

“I’ll take any ammo you can spare. Any of your boys need medical attention?”

He shakes his head, and mechanically reaches back to pull an ammo can from the rear of the Humvee. “We have two wounded, but last time I checked, they’re stable back in one of the MRAPs.” He pauses. “We had to go through hell to get here. Can’t imagine what you’ve just been through.”

The truck starts to move, and the gunner on top starts firing again. Heavy, loud .50 caliber shots shake the whole truck, and some of the rounds thud through his turret into the body of the vehicle. One in particular lands on your bare forearm. It’s _hot._ Scorching. You quickly shake it off, and hear the Mistrali beside you chuckle.

“I guess you found the one downside to having rolled sleeves.”

You force a smile, as much as you can. You run a gloved finger over the reddened skin. “Suppose I did.”

You stop and catch your breath for a moment,watching the setting sun fade below the horizon and cast a haunting orange glow over the buildings and landscaping going by. However, shortly after, you tap the gunner’s leg, calling up to him. “Soldier! Take a break. I’ll take the gun from you.”

“You got it!” The gunner starts to climb down out of his saddle, and that’s when you notice his monkey tail. Blonde hair. A nametape that reads ‘Wukong.’

“The huntsman is letting you off of the hook, Sun.” The blue-haired soldier punches Sun’s shoulder as you get into the turret.

“Neptune… I thought I told you to be cool.”

“Dude… I _am_ cool.”

As much as you’d love to listen to their banter, you’ve got a job to do, and that is protecting the Humvee and punching through to Qrow. Rounds come in, one after the other, and bounce off of the blacktop of the road or the metal of the Humvee around you.

Being a gunner in a vehicle… it’s a feeling unlike any other. On one hand you are _vulnerable._ Voluntarily putting yourself up on top of this pile of metal that already attracts bullets like a magnet. You paint a bullseye on your back that every single Grimm out there would love to hit—multiple times. However, on the other hand, you possess the single most powerful weapon on the battlefield, whether that be the 50 you’re on now, the Mk. 19 (colloquially known as “the Mark”), or the much faster firing ‘up-guns.’ You can reach out farther, punch through thicker walls, and inflict more lethal injuries on anyone who stands in your path.

Consequently, it makes you feel _alive._ The wind hitting your face and sweeping your hair back. Every time you depress the thumb trigger, the Humvee shakes and the concussion of the round going out hits you firmly in the chest. An apartment complex passes by on the left, with a park on the right. Half of the sky is hidden by a canopy of thick, deciduous trees. That’s why you only hear the beating of rotors against the air. You only hear the sound of the rocket.

Then, everything erupts.

The rocket comes straight in and explodes behind the Humvee just in front of you. It gets thrown onto its side, and despite your drivers efforts, your tires lock up and you skid into the wreckage in front of you as dust slams into your face, both from the explosion and from some kind of attack helicopter flying over. You blink rapidly, trying to get a glimpse of it before it flies away, but it’s tough with the dimming sky. All you get is the silhouette… which makes your blood run cold.

 _Nevermore_.

You’re thrown forward as the Humvee beside you crunches into the rear of yours. While there’s not much physical damage to either truck… the force of getting tossed against the edge of the turret knocks the wind out of you.

You suck in a gasp, trying to catch your breath again. No rounds are coming in at you, for the moment. But that helicopter is still out there. You look around, trying to get a read on the situation. The other two vehicles in the back of the convoy didn’t crash together, but you’re all still in a single file line. Perfect targets for a gun run if that Nevermore comes back.

“Ruby!” You call over your personal radio frequency. “You have to get spread out before that Nevermore’s next pass.”

Ruby’s voice quickly cuts back at you, but you hear hurried voices and shouts in the background. “We know, Switch.  We’re getting there.”

However, as you open your mouth to reply, Yang’s voice comes over the radio. “Hey, can you see Weiss? That rocket was too close for comfort.”

 _Weiss._ You spin around from looking towards the two vehicles at the rear of the convoy to the smoking heap in front of you. You clamber at the walls of the turret, trying to get a glimpse into one of the windows of the overturned vehicle. The gunner was thrown outward, laying on the ground to your left. But there’s no movement _within_ the Humvee. Just…  masses slumped against the roof and doors. As you squint through the white smoke, there’s a mess of white hair and fair skin that’s dotted with dark, clotted blood. _That can’t be her._

Your attention is wrenched away by the dreaded noise of rotors again. But this time… you’re ready. You swing the barrel of the long and awkward 50 cal around, and depress the thumb trigger. Again, the whole vehicle shakes and you tighten your grip on the wooden handles of the gun. There’s no telling if your gun is actually going to do anything to the armor of the Nevermore… but there _are_ weak spots. Places where bullets might get through and bring it down.

All of the other vehicles have the same idea… each one opening up on the helicopter. Even at this distance, you can see sparks from bullets bouncing off of its armor.

Flashes of light like shooting stars streak across the sky—tracers from each vehicle’s gun. Yours are landing low… you slowly raise the gun, walking the bullets up until they’re landing against the top of the main rotor.

Even with the sun behind the horizon and the tracers, you see the flash of fire as one bullet finds its way through… and white smoke starts to pour out of the top.

Relief blended with malice washes over you when you see the helicopter drop, then bank and turn away. It’s not going down… but you doubt it’ll be back. You _hope_ it doesn’t come back.

As you rest back into the gunner’s saddle, your heartrate begins to calm down as the adrenaline fades. You release your grip on the machine gun and start to clamber back down into the Humvee itself.

 _You have to get to Weiss._ It’s… not because you have feelings for her. Not because you just shared a kiss that confirms she feels the same way. She’s still your teammate, and you’re the only one with the medical training to help both her and everyone else in that Humvee.

At least, you’re trying to convince yourself of that.

“Dude. You know you’re shaking, right?” It’s Neptune. The guy with the blue hair.

Your reply is stern. Commanding. You grabs Yang’s SAW as you nudge him aside. “Out of my way.”

Both Sun and Neptune give you concerned looks as they move out of the way. You punch the door open, and run over to the door that Weiss is slumped against.

Being out of the vehicle gives you a different perspective from when you were up in the turret. That park off on the right is a lot bigger, and the trees are a lot taller. Plenty of places for Grimm to take cover. Even as the sky fades from a dark orange twilight to black, the full moon reveals everything clearly and casts shadows on the pavement. That apartment complex on the other side of the road, however, is a lot smaller than you first thought… but it seems empty. Untouched by the battle. Bikes are still locked up on racks, cars parked in small, numbered spaces.

Your attention returns to the overturned truck. Your hands—they’re still shaking—pull at the door mechanism, clumsily ripping it open as you drag Weiss out.

Her eyes are closed, and the blood that you saw is still there, streaking down her face and staining her hair. The tie that normally holds her hair up is nowhere to be found… it’s all just a mess of dirty white locks that in any other setting would be beautiful.

_Focus._

Fumble for a pulse around her neck, pressing deep and searching for that rhythm against your fingertips. There’s none. Try the other side. It’s not there either…

“Weiss?”

Snatch her wrist and press your fingers against the vein there. _You still can’t find anything._

You sit backwards, eyeing her motionless form. Your jaw clenches, and you know that your hands are still shaking. She’d be the one tell you that… but she’s gone. No pulse. There’s nothing you can do for her.

_She wouldn't just... die like this..._

A faint groan of pain reverberates in your ears. It’s not Weiss… but it’s the driver of her Humvee. You take your trauma bag off, and stand. You pull his door open and gingerly start to untangle him from the mess of wires and straps that his legs are caught in.

“Easy, buddy. I’m getting you out.” You pull a knife from your belt and cut at the straps and wires. One sparks at you, but it doesn’t jolt you at all. “What hurts?”

He bites his lip. “Hard to breathe…  Arm’s broken…”

You nod, seeing how his right arm is clutched against his body. His hand is mangled, too, but none of the injuries he mentioned are life-threatening, unless the difficulty breathing is linked to a collapsed lung. You’ll cross that bridge when you get there.

“Alright. I’m gonna pull you out. Just take it easy.” You support his weight and work him out of the straps and wires. He tries to come to a knee, and you put his good arm around your shoulders to help him stand. You track his breathing, trying to get a read on why he told you it’s hard to breathe, but you don’t sense anything out of the ordinary. It’s likely that he hit the steering wheel when the rocket came in. You open the door to your own truck, and ease him in.

“You stay here. Nothing too strenuous, and don’t aggravate that arm. I’ll be back.”

He eases back in the seat, closing his eyes with a grimace. “Thanks, doc…”

You turn around, heading back over to the truck but spying the gunner who was thrown out. Instead, you jog over to him and roll him on his back, letting out a sigh of relief when you see that he’s breathing. He’s still in bad shape. You need a litter, or a stretcher. Blake’s the one who has it.

“Blake! I need a litter!” You yell over your shoulder, not realizing that she and the rest of the team are already out of the truck, running over to help you.

“Y/N…” A soft, pained voice hits your ears. It’s one that you recognize, even as Blake slides to her knees beside you.

You glance at Blake, then at Ruby who suddenly appears at your side as well. You point to the gunner, and tell them both, “Help him. Get him into one of the trucks.”

_Where did that voice come from?_

_Weiss?_

Can’t be. You couldn’t feel her pulse. But that was her voice.

In seconds, you’re by her side again. And that’s when you see those ice-blue eyes open again. You’re hit with disbelief, even when you snake an arm under her to help her sit up.

“I… I thought you were dead…” You brush her hair out of the way as you look for spots of blood anywhere besides her face.

She just sits there, forcing each inhale and leaning into you.

No new blood. No new holes. “Weiss, you didn’t have a pulse…”

Weiss looks down at your hands, which are admittedly shaking again. “You have gloves on, you dolt…” She closes her eyes again and brushes a lock out of her face.

She’s right. You _do_ have gloves on. Too thick to be able to find a pulse in the first place.

“Alright. Help me up. I’m good to fight…” She rolls to her side and regains a knee, standing up slowly.

Holding Weiss’s hand, wrapping her arm around your shoulder, seeing her smile again… it makes you realize that a few minutes ago, you thought that you’d never get to see that smile again.

After helping Weiss up, you see Blake and Ruby carrying the wounded gunner towards the cluster of apartments. Odd… You catch up to Yang who is following them in.

“Yang, what’s going on?”

She shakes her head. “We’re going to establish a casualty collection point in the apartment. We’ve got too many wounded to get to Qrow and make any sort of difference, especially with the night setting in.” She sighs. “As much as I’d like to take the fight to the Grimm right now, we need a good defensive strongpoint.”

Silently, you nod. You agree—the damaged Humvees and shot up soldiers are in no shape to fight to Qrow’s convoy. Hopefully, Qrow can dig in and do the same.

…

You’re sitting in a lovely, two-bedroom suite, with your back against a wall. Your sight is trained out of a perfectly clean sliding glass door, scanning the park as if Grimm are already there, and you just have to spot them. It’s a quaint little spot. The apartment has a very open layout, with two Mistrali soldiers laying on the microfiber couches in an attempt to get at least a few minutes of sleep while you’ve got down time. There’s no gunfire or explosions that you can hear, and the lack of radio traffic is comforting. Weiss has already checked in with Qrow and Goodwitch. The wounded from the Nevermore attack have been stabilized, and you were able to pop Yang’s shoulder back into place. Despite the fact that putting weight on it is painful, Yang insisted to have her SAW back.

“Hey.”

You look up to find Weiss sitting down beside you.

“I thought Ruby told you to grab some sleep,” you reply, remembering how Ruby wanted Blake, Yang, and Weiss to rest and rearm while you and her stayed on guard. It was a bit of a throwback to basic training with ‘tent guard duty,’but at this point, everybody needs a bit of a break.

“You try sleeping in a warzone. Besides, I think we need to talk, without the team breathing down our backs.”

You nod, expecting that to come at some point. “I’d be lying if I said I disagree… You start, or me?”

Weiss sets Myrtenaster down across her lap, bringing a hand up to pinch the bridge of her nose and blink hard. “Well, to begin… I know you remember how I told you how I never understood how Blake and Yang did it. I told you how I’d never go on a mission with someone I care this much about. And I said that your head gets unclear, and you make irrational decisions when you’re thrown into combat with someone you share that kind of connection with.”

You comb through the files in your head, remembering when Weiss told you that. It was right after Homestead, when Ruby got hit. “Yeah. I remember that…” Your voice trails off. Weiss had implied that she’d never want to have a romantic relationship with someone she fought with.

“Obviously, I’m on a mission right now with someone I care that much about.” Weiss’s gloved hand finds your own, and you lace your fingers with hers. Instinctively. She pauses, looking down at her boots. “Y/N, if we’re going to work this out, I need you to promise me something.”

You don’t reply. You only give her hand a gentle squeeze, trying to read the expression on her face. She’s still looking at her boots, shoulders hunched down with a frown.

Suddenly, she turns to look at you, gazes locking with her letting out a long sigh. “Promise me that you’ll put the mission first. You won’t let personal feelings get in the way. This…” She purses her lips, looking away for a moment to find the words, seemingly forcing them out before she does. “… _relationship_ won’t effect your actions when we’re on the battlefield. It’s hard enough watching someone I have feelings for get shot at because he’s a soldier like me. I don’t need you putting yourself even farther into harm’s way just for me.”

Can… can you promise her that? Can you promise that if she’s bleeding out, the light about to fade from the depths of her seas of ice, that you’ll put the mission first?

_You’d kill for her. You’d even die for her, just like you’d do for the rest of the team. But… would you let her die for the mission? For Atlas or Vale or Mistral or Vacuo?_

_Would you let her die for you?_

“I… Weiss, that’s… that’s a tall order…” Stumbling over your own words. Trying to force them out. You look down at the rifle laid across your lap, biting your tongue but trying to find at least a thread of a sentence to tell her what’s going through your mind. You can’t look into those eyes and tell her that you can’t promise that.

Weiss straightens up. “I know. But we can’t let this get in the way of who we are. I’m a huntress. I kill Grimm to protect innocents. If people die because of us…”

You shake your head. “Weiss, I can’t promise that I won’t run into fire for you.” A sigh. “I can’t promise anything…”

She closes her eyes, releasing your hand even though you want to squeeze it tight and keep it here. “Switch, if—“

You interrupt her, finding words becoming clear all of a sudden. “Weiss, let me tell you this. Please.” You grit your teeth for a moment, then lower your voice to a whisper. “If… if it comes down to it, and we have to choose… I’d rather me than you. Any day. I’ll take that bullet.”

Her eyes open suddenly, grabbing a handful of your shirt. “Absolutely not, Y/N.”

“It’s… it’s how I feel, Weiss…”

She turns away, releasing you. “If it has to be like that… I can’t stop you.” She closes her eyes again, turning away from you.

You shift over, wrapping an arm around her shoulders but unsure of what to say.

She sighs, then leans into you and lowers her voice, speaking with a renewed, calculated precision. “I will never let it come to that, Switch.” A pause, her tone wavering as she starts to get choked up. “And you promise me that you won’t just throw your life away like that. You’ll fight like you always have, right?”

“I will, Weiss. I… I _can_ promise you that.”

She nods, lifting her rifle off of her lap so she can shift closer to you, and you readily pull her in. “One more thing? It’s… not new, but… I want to tell you again.”

You cock your head, but start to smile. “What’s that?”

She looks up at you, smiling back at you when she sees your smile. “This doesn’t change a thing about what I told you after your first mission. I’m always here, whenever you need a shoulder to cry, lean, or bleed on. Hopefully the third one as little as possible, but… I’m here when you need me.”

You nod, giving her shoulders a gentle squeeze. “Likewise, Snow Angel.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *waving* Thoughts?


	30. OP Afterburner: Part 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay. Everyone take a moment to look yourselves over. Make sure you're ready to go. Tighten the straps.
> 
> Are you sure the straps are tight? Like, POSITIVE?
> 
> Good. Let's burn.

You’re awoken by gunfire. Gunfire and shouts.

Small objects, rocks or maybe hail, are falling all over you. You roll over to your side, finding Thermo next to you and drawing it in close while you sit up.

What you thought were rocks are actually shell casings. Most are still hot to the touch, especially as more keeping hitting you. The carpet dampens the clatter as they bounce off of you and fall to the ground where you were just laying. You shake the sleep out of your eyes, and try to get your bearings again.

You’re still in that same apartment complex, by the sliding glass door where you and Weiss had the talk about your… _relationship_ last night. But now, instead of the night sky, sunlight comes through the glass door. Well, what’s left of it. Most of the clear shards are mixed in with the shell casings starting to litter the floor. Sunlight refracts off of them at odd angles, casting spots of light on the walls and ceiling reminiscent of the effect of a disco ball.

Weiss is beside the door, firing outwards and downwards from the balcony. Ruby is beside you, shooting from a window that used to be dressed by autumn-colored curtains. You’re trying to get your body to move, but everything is still a bit sluggish. You only got two hours of sleep, all said and done.

“Switch, get up! We need you!” Ruby gives you a gentle kick even though you’re sitting up. “We’ve been trying to get you up for the past five minutes. Find Yang. She needs your help to get the wounded out.”

“Wounded? What’s going on?” The Mistral soldiers who were resting on the couches last night are nowhere to be seen. Might be on the lower floors. You look over at Weiss, checking for any injuries down her form, but you rest easy at seeing that there are none.

Weiss spies you glancing over at her, and shakes her head before looking down her rifle sights again. “She gave you an order, Y/N. Go. Now.”  

You _promised_ her that the mission would come first. Get up. Flip the switch.

You haul yourself to your feet, and flinch at the sudden hiss of a round coming through the siding of the apartment complex and missing just over your head. However, you bask in the brief adrenaline burst that it forces through you. Each and every thread of sleep is instantly gone, your muscles charged with potential and ready to go.

You keep yourself low as you jog down the stairs and hear Yang’s voice calling out targets and commands. Rounds still bust through the drywall and pass over your head. The heavy white dust amplifies beams of light coming through the bullet holes.

When you get down the stairs, the first thing you see is Sun. That monkey Faunus who you met yesterday with Neptune. Back when you called him down from that gun, his hair was styled and bright blonde, but now it lays across his forehead in dirty streaks, splotched with brown stains.

“Sun!” You slide in beside him. “What’s going on?”

He ducks behind the overturned table he’s using for cover. It wouldn’t protect either of you  from a bullet… but it’s something. “We started taking fire just a few moments ago. We were about to organize a push to maybe get two of the Humvees out with our most critically wounded. Doesn’t sound like that will be happening now.”

“Where’s Yang?” You can still hear her voice, but you’re not exactly sure where she is.

He jerks his head behind him. “Next room. She’s in there with that other teammate of yours. The cat Faunus.”

“We’ll get the wounded out. I’ve gotta get to Yang.”

The way into the ‘next room’ that Sun mentioned is through a wide-open sitting area, overlooking a huge bay window.

You can’t sprint across it without getting insanely lucky. The only way across it is to low-crawl.

Even though you can hear the cracks and pops of rounds passing through, you get low. Down on your belly, rifle beside you with the action facing up.

For a moment, you’re taken back to basic training as you use your knees and elbows to stay under the heat and certain death passing just over your head. Crawling through shards of glass and spent cartridges feels a lot like slogging through mud with instructors shouting in your ear, and blanks going off just a few feet from your ear. Only this time, in the real world, you can’t convince yourself that those gunshots are blanks. Or that the pain on your forearms is just grass thorns and not broken glass.

You grit your teeth, and push the rest of the way across the open space. Sure enough, Yang stands just down a short hallway by a door that’s been kicked off of its hinges.

“Yang, I’m here.” You’re back on your feet at the end of the hallway that spills out into a number of bedrooms. Each one has a window, and a number of soldiers stand in each one, shooting out of the windows.

She puts her back against the white wall, panting and starting to reload her machine gun as she replies. “You and I need to get the criticals out of here. They’re already loaded up—“ She flinches at the scream of one of the soldiers in the room. “—on two of the Humvees. We’ve gotta punch through. You up for it?”

Your eyes widen temporarily. Yang meant _right now._ Even with all of the bullets coming in…  “What about the rest of the team?”

She pushes past you, back down the way you just came. She calls over her shoulder. “Already talked about it. Lives come first. Besides, if we make it, we can bring back ammo and more firepower.” She turns to look straight forward again, and you swear that you heard an emphasis on one specific word: ‘if.’

…

“Ruby, we’re about to hit it. Can you cover us?” You call through your radio. Even though her and Weiss are on the floor just above you, there’s no guarantee they’ll hear you unless you use your radio.

Weiss is the one to respond. “We can. They’re starting to break up. It’s now or never.”

In the background of Weiss’s radio call, you catch Ruby saying something about a smoke round, which is confirmed by the sprouting of a wall of thick gray smoke in front of the apartment complex.

You time your run, sprinting out of the front door to jump into the open seat of the front Humvee, and slam the somewhat-armored door shut. You look beside you at the sweaty-faced sergeant driving, then behind you to see two younger Mistrali soldiers, one turned to tend to a wounded man laid down in the flat space of the truck. Above you is Sun, his feet dancing around the already crowded vehicle, maneuvering the mounted gun and firing back at Grimm. Large, hot rounds clank to the ground, only serving to cramp the Humvee even more.

Looking in the mirror, you see Yang do the same, and you shout to the driver. “Let’s move! Now!”

“Yes, sir!” He slams the truck into gear and drops the throttle, both Humvees rocketing away from the convoy, but not fast enough. Bullets are already flying at you, sounding like construction workers with hammers beating against the brown camouflage sheet metal. Tan colored buildings marked with yellow, faded windows and decaying decoration fly past you.

You roll the window down, shifting your body and transitioning to point your rifle out the window. Rounds continue to bounce and ping off of the thin plating. You suppress the thought of what might happen if a bullet made it through to the engine block, or popped a tire, or found its way into the cab…

No. Flip the switch. Aim down your sights at soldiers in black uniforms as you race past them, opening up with everything you’ve got. Firing, the sound of the gunshots amplified by the confined space of the Humvee. You’re thrown to the side as the driver makes a sudden turn. Your elbow slams against the door, but the pain doesn’t get through to you as you bring your rifle back up and out the window.

Fire again. The bolt locks back- out of ammo. Drop the mag, pull a fresh one out of your vest, stab it into the gun, press bolt release.

Warm, sticky fluid suddenly hits the back of your neck as you hear a body slump to the ground inside the Humvee.

“Sun!” One of the men in the back screams as you turn and see the gunner crumpled over in his seat. The same man who just screamed pulls him down into the Humvee. “Sun’s hit!”

Your eyes dance over him, looking for the wound that you just _felt_ on your neck. He’s still moving, his arm across his body as he clutches his left shoulder. He collapses into the cab, his face turning paler by the second. “How bad is it? _How bad is it?!”_ Sun is pleading for somebody to tell him.

Both of the soldiers in the back look up and drag him into the rear, but beyond that, they don’t move. Just looking at both the entry and the exit wound as dark, veinous blood seeps out of it.

Over the sound of gunfire and the revving diesel engine, you try to wet your lips and find enough breath to shout back to Sun. “You’re gonna be fine, Sun. You two, slap some quickclot in there or get up on that gun!”

Your attention shifts back on shooting out the window, but after a few seconds, you glance back again, noticing the glossed-over faces of the men in the rear. You shake your head and slide out of your seat, muttering a curse under your breath.

You stand and find your footing. You’re familiar with this very gun—it’s the same one you were shooting with yesterday. You grab the charging handle, give it a firm pull, and swing it to bear on the rooftops and windows, and depress the thumb triggers. The whole truck shakes as rounds go outward, blowing holes through cover and knocking Grimm backwards, or completely apart. Rounds ping off of the Humvee. Silently, you send up a prayer that you and the other vehicle are fast enough to get out alive. Or lucky enough.

The driver turns another corner. Less fire is coming at you now, but looking forward, you lock eyes with a Grimm soldier readying a rocket. But you’re faster. You swing the huge gun around, point it at him, and let loose. The enormous rounds strike his leg first, knocking him on his chest as the next three make ground meat out of his chest.

Your truck roars out of the city perimeter and onto the road heading back to base. You breathe a sigh of relief and peel your white-knuckled hands off of the gun. The helicopter giving you air cover flies close to the left fender of the Humvee, one of the pilots waving and giving you a half-salute before hauling the bird off and heading back to the fight in the city. You didn’t even notice that it was there…

You… _you made it out_. None of it seems real- the silent blacktop road with guardrails on either side. The dirt path back to the forward base where you started from yesterday.

For now, you’ve earned a break. The base and the makeshift airfield loom on the horizon, and you lean forward on the mount of the gun, sucking in a deep breath and letting it out as a sigh. You’re safe. At least… for about an hour. Meanwhile, Ruby, Blake, and Weiss are all still out there, fighting for their lives with the Mistralis. So is Qrow. Part of you is glad to be out from under the gun for a bit, but the larger part of you wants to get back out there. _With your team. With Weiss._

Before long, the Humvee comes to a stop, and a handful of troops waiting in reserve come rushing out to you, bringing stretchers and litters to take the wounded away. You climb out the top, jumping down off of the roof.

“Are you alright, sir? Need anything?” An Atlas soldier is next to you, looking you over. He’s standing in only uniform pants and an undershirt that reads ‘Vanguard.’ A bandage is wrapped across his face, covering one of his eyes.

“Water. Food. Something salty. All the ammo you can load in the Humvee. And… if you can…” You slip the near-empty trauma bag off of your shoulders. “Fill that back up. I’m gonna need it.”

He searches through his pockets, offering you a bandana before turning and running off to find the things you requested. You wipe some of the sweat and grime off of your face, as well as the specks of Sun’s blood across your neck.

You turn around, reaching back into the Humvee to grab Thermo, which you left in the front seat. But when you do… you’re met by a sight that would make most soldiers nauseous.

Cartridges. Bloodstains. Bits and pieces of muscle tissue. Red foam from chest injuries. Some of it from Sun, some from the two Mistralis you were carrying out, some from the battle that happened yesterday.

It’s…. hard to witness, but your attention is called away nearly immediately.

“Hey, Sun. How’s the shoulder?” Yang asks the Faunus, as he’s being carted away from the Humvees to a medical tent. The two medical personnel moving him slow down to let Yang talk.

“It’s… it’s great.” Sun is smiling, the color once again back in his face as his uniform jacket is unbuttoned and showing his bare chest. “They shot me up with this morphine stuff…”

Yang chuckles. “The good stuff. They gave you the good stuff.”

“Yeah. You know what else is good stuff?” He rolls over to his side, eyes bouncing between you and Yang. “That teammate of yours. The black-haired one who wears the bow. She’s got gorgeous—“ With a gasp, Sun is suddenly interrupted by Yang placing a hand gently on his wound. Enough to hurt, not enough to injure him more.

“You don’t want to continue that line of conversation, monkey brain.”

You shoot Yang a hostile glance. _Quit it._ She takes her hand off of Sun, holding them up with a sly grin and a wink.

…

“Goodwitch, Cyclone 3-2. We have eyes on the Huntresses with many Grimm closing on their position. Specialists Yang Xiao Long and Y/N request permission to provide close air support until extraction arrives.”

You’re sitting on the skid next to Yang in the “Little Bird” helicopter, eyeing the smoke and rocket trails below you. According to the Mistral engineers, it would take at least a few hours to get the Humvees fixed and ready to fight again. Neither you nor Yang could leave your teammates for that long. ‘Cyclone 3-2’ was spinning up and about to take off. Naturally, you jumped on.

“RWBY 4 and 5. This is Colonel Goodwitch.”

You shoot a glance to Yang, cocking your head. Yang reaches up and presses her comm button. “Yes, ma’am?”

“Listen. Yang, Y/N… The situation is a mess and I know you can see it better than I do. I know your team is down there, but I can’t allow you to fly over them. You’d just be a target and we can’t risk it.”

You gently nod at Yang, both of your eyes locking and silently whispering that you know exactly what you’re asking for.

“Ma’am, we understand the risks and again request permission to engage. Those are Huntresses down there. We have to.”

The next few moments seem like hours, the radio silence deafening as you wait for the answer. Either way, what Goodwitch decides will not be easy for you. You’ll either fly over in an unarmored helicopter with a bullseye on your back, or you’ll have to take a back seat and watch your sisters-in-arms get slaughtered at the hands of the Grimm.

“Yang and Y/N. Permission is granted.” A pause. “Give them hell, you two.”

Yang starts to grin, giving you an enthusiastic ‘thumbs-up.’ You wonder how she can remain so aloof and whimsical despite the fact that you’re jumping right back into the fiercest action of the battle. You hopelessly try to mask your own emotions, but the plastic smile you give back to her fades as your gaze returns to the streets and suburbs below.

Yang nudges you. “Hey, cheer up. If I get you killed up here, Weiss is probably gonna court-martial my ass.”

You shake your head. “Yang…” A long, heavy sigh. “Just… stay sharp. Watch your shots. Our team is down there.”

A half chuckle escapes her lips. “We’re getting them out. Alive. We’ve got ammo and a kick-ass attitude. I told you once that it never gets easier. Are you switched on or not?”

You purse your lips, and steel yourself momentarily. You bring the rolled section of your sleeve up and wipe the growing sweat from your brow. “I’m ready. Let’s do this.”

…

“RWBY 2, RWBY 5. Weiss, what the hell is going on down there?” You key in your radio when you fly over the small car lot that your teammates are fighting out of.

“Switch, we’re in deep.” As Weiss replies, you can hear the cracks of bullets flying over, and her labored breathing from stress. Still, her words are crystal clear. Composed, even in combat. “We stirred up a hornet’s nest. These guys are spec ops—here one second, gone the next. Be careful.”

The Little Bird makes one pass overhead, and you spot Weiss, Ruby, and Blake, all spread out behind a hodgepodge of SUVs, cars, and trucks, each one different colors but also glinting in the late morning sunlight. The way your teammates cover eachother, the way they point and talk and move amongst the cars… it’s mesmerizing. Almost like a very intricate dance. Somebody once told you that combat is the ultimate team sport.

“We can’t see a whole lot from where we are, and we have to keep moving. Give us priority targets and we’ll see what we can do about them.” You breathe a sigh of relief at finally being able to see the rest of your team, and actually do something about their situation.

“Watch our flanks.” Gunfire. You can actually see her firing away at a Grimm soldier tucked behind a tree. “We’re going to keep pushing to the west. We’ve been running a screen for the convoy to make it to Qrow.”

The helicopter banks, and now, you’ve got a better angle on that one Grimm Weiss was shooting at. Two of them, actually. You raise your weapon, but Yang has the same idea. She braces herself on the helicopter skid, and pulls the trigger, spraying a line of bullets across the two.

Before you can respond to what Weiss said earlier, Ruby’s voice crackles across the radio. “It’s good to have you two in the air. It’s been hell.”

Yang’s voice comes over the radio next. “We know, sis. We’ll try to make it a little less hellish.”

Across the street from the car lot is a fast food restaurant, set off from a strip of outdoor shops. It’s not the tattered banners and blown over racks of clothing that catch your eye—it’s movement. Black uniforms with red accents.

These Grimm are different… high speed gear. Red goggles. Moving in compact lines, covering every angle. Just like you see them, they see you. They don’t run or scatter. They’re disciplined. Every single one of their guns turns and points at you.

You and Yang open up, both of you firing fully automatic burst. Their bullets bounce off of the helicopter, narrowly missing you, but you and Yang make hits on all four of them. Some slump backwards against the wall, some fall forward onto their faces.

White smoke brushes past you, and you look up to see it coming from the top of the main rotor. It smells like burning rubber, but that wouldn’t make any sense. Next to you, the pilot checks his controls. As far as you know… the helicopter is okay. Still flying.

“Weiss, we just took care of a small team towards that restaurant to your south.”

“Got it. If you can keep us covered from that direction, we’ll keep moving west.” She’s breathing even harder, even though her words are still clear.

“Stay safe. Don’t take any unnecessary risks.”

“Same to you, Switch.”

The helicopter banks, circling around to make another pass, but this time, you watch both of the pilots fighting with the controls, needing to correct a lot more than usual.

This time, you’re deeper over the Grimm lines. Targets everywhere. Maybe you can help your teammates out even more

You let loose, planting the reticle on each black uniform that you see and pulling the trigger. Short bursts echo from your rifle even over the sound of the rotors.

You don’t even notice  how much ammo you’re burning through. Every time the bolt locks back, you mechanically drop the magazine and stab a new one in. Thermo is staying cool, so you don’t have to worry melting the barrel.

After a moment, you start to see white smoke again, still coming from the top of the rotor. Alarms suddenly start going off in the cockpit, which breaks you out of the fire-reload-fire mode that you’re currently in.

“Tracked! We’re being tracked!” The co-pilot calls out.

“Altitude. Countermeasures. Evade.” The pilot runs through his checklist out loud, having memorized it but also trained to say it. You watch him pull the collective handle and goose the throttle, but moments later, you also see the flash of light signaling a rocket being launched. You and Yang put rounds into the Grimm soldier holding the rocket launcher, but by then, it’s too late.

You’re jolted—hard—when the rocket strikes the tail rotor. If it weren’t for the cable attached to you and keeping you connected to the skid, you would be falling through the air. Different alarms and tones strike your ears and sound like sirens. The spinning helicopter fills your mind with vertigo, and for once, you’re not even sure what the pilots are calling out.

“This is gonna hurt!” Yang has one hand latched onto the skid, the other onto her SAW, trying to hold on just like you are. The ground is rushing up at you much quicker than you’d like. Something that looks like a high school track and football field. At least you’ll be landing somewhere soft…

“300 feet… 200 feet…” That’s the co-pilot. Calling out altitudes. “100… 50… 25… Brace!”

….

Ears ringing.

Everything is fuzzy.

Something is… trapping your leg. Your arms are fine, and you can move, but you can’t actually go anywhere.

“Hey! Switch, you alright?” _Yang._ She’s alive, and so are you, it seems.

Everything is spinning. Like when you were a kid and you spun in circles to make yourself dizzy. Only this feeling isn’t dissipating like it did back then.

“Can you move?”

“Leg…. Leg’s trapped….” It’s hard to get the breath to speak. “Not broken, just pinned.”

You look around for your blonde teammate, and find that she’s on the ground beside you, resting on her hands and knees. Her SAW is nowhere to be found, and neither is your rifle.

You see a looming figure in white military dress behind her. It’s not Ironwood, or Winter, or Weiss. It’s… a woman. Pink and brown hair. Opposite pink and brown eyes.

“Yang!”

Yang turns and spies the woman, rolling onto her back. Her arms come up to block the woman’s kick, and Yang sloppily gets her footing and stands up. Yang puts her arms up in a boxer’s pose, and steps forward, swinging at the girl. The girl smiles and ducks out of every punch Yang throws.

What can you do to help?

You look down at your form, and spy your sidearm, still attached to your belt. Maybe you can get it out if you move your weight correctly…

Yang gasps, followed by a cry of pain as you watch the woman land two kicks on Yang’s midsection, straight to the gut.

You try to shift sideways, but with the way your leg is pinned, you can’t move enough to get your weight off of your hip in order to draw your gun. Your focus darts between the gun and the two fighters…

With a grimace, and a groan, you twist just enough… and something pops in your leg. But it’s enough that you can get Solution out of its holster and swing it around to sight on the girl…

That’s when you see Yang in a crumpled heap, face-down. Blonde locks hide her face.

_Unconscious? Dead?_

You look up, and see the woman’s pink and brown eyes again. But before you can get a shot off, she lands a kick to your temple, and darkness claims you.

…

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... we've seen Grimm Spec Ops. We just saw Neo. We've seen Sun and we've seen some trauma.
> 
> Stay strapped in.


	31. Don't Break

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *peeking up from behind a small fort made of cardboard boxes* Hey, everyone... Here's the next chapter. I'm sorry I broke my promise of weekly updates... but I'm also working furiously on For Thine is the Kingdom, so get ready for that!
> 
> Also, please don't hurt me for this chapter. I'm an angst writer, but not a wump writer. Let's see how the characters pull through this one. I love watching them power through adversity.

“Hey. This one’s waking up.”

Your head is killing you. Like a million drills and screws being forced into your brain at once while the feeling of a jackhammer pulses against your temples. You open your eyes slowly, adjusting to the darkness of the room you’re being held in. But with how your head is… everything is a blur. Everything is shaking.

“Well, well, well….” A black-haired girl with long curls cascading down the side of her face and over one shoulder steps out of the shadows. Her voice is… low. Smoky. Her red clothes stand out against her fair skin and amber eyes. Well… eye. Bangs cover her left eye. “How are you feeling, Y/N?”

“How…” You start to speak, only getting choked up by how dry your throat is. It’s like someone jammed cotton balls and saltines into your mouth. “How do you know my name?”

She steps up to you, leaning in with a half-smile that creeps up the side of her face. She reaches for the chain your dog tags are held on, and pulls them from being tucked into your uniform top. That’s when you realize that you’re bound to a metal folding chair—she starts to pull you forwards by the chain but you can’t go anywhere.

“Call it a lucky guess.” She drops your tags, the metal falling lightly against your shirt.

You look around the room, noticing pallets and cardboard boxes stacked up to make a makeshift wall around where you’re being held. There’s only one light above you, but its presence heats the air around you. You feel wet; you were sweating in your sleep. Your breath catches when you see Yang only a few feet away from you, in a metal chair beside you. She’s slumped forward, her locks hiding her face. Her vest is gone—only the uniform pants, boots, and top remain. Who knows where your weapons are…

“I’m actually surprised that you don’t know who _I_ am.” She takes a seat on one of the pallets, crossing her legs but leaning forward. “Your intel is a lot sloppier than I thought.”

“Some White Fang or Grimm officer. You all look the same.” You try to sit up straight, but the cuffs are blocking you from going that far.

“Ooo… close.” As she’s responding to you, both of your gazes avert to the side to see the same woman you saw after the helicopter crash. One pink eye… one brown eye… “Ah. Yes. You’ve already met Neo, haven’t you?”

_The crash_. _Getting tracked. Getting hit, and spiraling to the ground. Yang crawling over to you. Your leg was pinned under the helicopter…_

Neo closes her eyes and smiles, offering a gentle nod that makes your stomach turn.

“What have you done with those two pilots?” You question is directed at Neo, but you get the feeling that the other woman is the one paying more attention to you.

The black-haired woman dismisses it with a wave of her hand. “Dead.”

You purse your lips, looking at the smooth concrete floor.

“Don’t feel bad for them. They don’t have to go through what I’m about to put _you_ through.” That stupid, sly half-smile is spreading across her face again. “You and your teammate here.”

Your heart skips for a moment, feeling the bolt of adrenaline with the flare that shoots through you. “If you expect me to beg for mercy, you’ll be disappointed.”

Cinder leans forward and brushes the back of her hand across your cheek. “How admirable…” You recoil, appalled by the feeling of her skin. She chuckles, straightening back up and motioning to somebody behind you. “Emerald, Mercury, would you mind taking Switch here to his room? I’d like to have a chat with Yang alone when she comes to.” The word ‘room’ is spoken with a tinge of mockery.

_Wait. She said Switch. She… knows your nickname, too?_

You feel someone fiddling with the handcuffs keeping you to the chair, and for a moment, your hands are free.

Here’s your chance. Surge forward towards that girl in red—but you’re interrupted _harshly_ by a blow to your back, just below the ribs. It knocks the wind out of you and is followed up by a kick to the back of your knees. The only thing that prevents you from smacking your face on the ground is your palms painfully slapping against the concrete floor.

“Let’s go.” A male voice calls from behind you. His sudden grip on your collar pulls you to your feet and stifles your airway at the same time. There’s another set of hands pulling your arms behind you again while you feel the cold metal of cuffs going on once more.

…

Your ‘room’ is more of a cell. Well, it _is_ a cell. Thick cinder block walls and concrete floors, barred doors, and a feeling that is just… grey. No paint, no decorations, and it’s _cold._ There’s a frosted glass window on the back wall that’s letting in only a handful of sunlight. You step up to it and press your hand to it. Your handprint wipes away condensation, indicating that it’s even colder outside.

Your only physical comfort in the cell is a cot with some rips and tears in the fabric. It’s a rattier version of what you used to sleep on in the hangar.

The sound of a door being opened calls your attention away from the cot and back to the sort of hallway in between the rows of cells. It’s Yang, handcuffed like you were and resisting the pushes from the silver-haired man you now know as Mercury. He had ‘introduced’ himself and his partner, Emerald, to you on the way to your cell. Emerald opens the cell door and pushes Yang in after removing the handcuffs. Like you, Yang falls to her knees once she’s inside. The door slams shut, and to your relief, Emerald and Mercury leave the same way they came in.

“Hey. Yang. You alright?” You call over to your teammate, eyeing her for any signs of injury.

“Y/N?” Yang’s head snaps up so quickly that some of her locks end up falling loosely across her face.

“Yeah. It’s me. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine… just some bruises and redness. Those cuffs were killing me…” She rubs her wrists, grimacing for a moment.

“Tell me about it. What did they ask you?”

Yang shifts over and takes a seat with her back against one of the concrete walls, pulling her legs in. “Something about access to Vale security networks. Technically, I…” She stops, turning to you and lowering her voice. “I have the clearance to access them, but…” She winks. “They’re never gonna know that.”

“Huh…” You try pulling your cot over to the door so you can sit and keep talking to Yang, but it’s bolted to the floor. “They didn’t ask me anything specific. Do you know who that woman was?”

“The one acting like she’s in heat? That’s Cinder Fall. She’s got some kind of affiliation with the Grimm. I’ve seen her come up in intel bursts…” She frowns, still tracing the red lines on her wrists. “Never thought she was behind all of this in Mistral. It would explain why the Grimm have been so effective. And why Spec Ops was coming after RWBY.”

_Cinder Fall._

“Just keep your chin up, Switch.” She starts to smile, and reaches back to pull her mess of hair over her shoulder. “Just because we don’t have guns doesn’t mean we can’t take the fight to them. Remember that code of conduct thing that they drilled into you during basic?”

“Of course I remember it…”

“Get ready to use it.” Her hands comb through her hair, easing out tangles and knots as best she can. “They won’t break us.”

…

You’re strapped to that damn metal chair again… vision going blurry as Neo pushes yet another needle deep into you. This one is along the inside of your thigh.

“Okay, Y/N. I’ve told you the two things I need from you. Access to security protocols, and the location where the White Fang lieutenant is being held.” Cinder asks you, sitting in front of you on a basic metal table. Her gaze is on her hand, eyeing each of her nails individually. She’s touching them up with a nail file, but you can barely make up the rest of her figure.

It’s the same room you originally woke up in. The same hot light making beads of sweat roll down your face. Pallets and boxes shielding you from seeing outside of ten feet. Shadows casting across the floor. Drops of dried blood on the floor, both your’s and Yang’s. Mercury and Emerald’s ‘techniques’ weren’t as bloodless as Neo’s. But just as painful.

“W-What makes you think-“ You can’t help but release a small cry of pain when Neo strikes the nerve. It’s… a sudden bolt of fire down your leg. The one isn’t _already_ hurting from the helicopter crash.

Catch your breath. They can’t break you. “I don’t have any of that…”

Cinder smiles at your grimace. She’s… finding pleasure in your pain.

You’ve been trained for this. Evade questions. Don’t show pain if you can help it. Find a happy place in your mind, and go there for the time being.

Neo disappears behind you, and you feel yet _another_ needle being pushed into the tissue of your shoulder. Between the joints…

Happy place, Y/N. Working with Yang on her motorcycle. Making eggs on a lazy morning. Shooting with Ruby. That kiss with Weiss…

“Hey.” Cinder clutches your jaw, forcing you upwards to stare into her eyes. “If you try to clam up with me, it will go very, very badly for both you and Yang.”

You shake your head, more in defiance as Cinder’s nails dig into your cheeks. “You’re asking me things I don’t know the answer to. What do you even want?”

Cinder cocks her head. “Your obedience. What you know. And most importantly…” She nods to Neo, who starts removing the needles. One. By. One. Removing them hurts almost as bad as putting them in. “… Your _fear._ ”

…

You sit on the edge of your tattered cot, eyeing the bruises across your arms and the dried blood coming from where the handcuffs have rubbed raw through your skin. Every time you’re in that room, in that chair… you strain against them, trying to slip out to no avail. At least Emerald and Mercury take them off when they put you back in here. Still… that little tinge of pain is a constant reminder that you’re a prisoner.

You’ve been fighting back, though. Avoiding their questions, giving them only what you’re _required_ to give. Name, rank, service number, date of birth. Plus a few curse words. You’re a huntsman. You don’t break easily.

“Yang, how long have we been in here?” You call across the hallway to her cell.

“By my count… four weeks and two days.” She’s laying on her back in her cot, looking up at the ceiling and tossing a little ball of cloth up in the air. From the ‘treatment’ your captors have been giving you, some of your clothes are ripped. Yang tore some of the ripped pieces out and formed them into the ball she’s using for entertainment.

“Damn…” You look down at what’s left of the uniform you’ve been wearing for the past four weeks. Your boots are still fine, but rips, tears, and reddish-brown stains criss-cross your pants and blouse. Your sleeves are rolled down to stave off the cold.

Voices. _Cinder._ The door opens at the end of the hallway. Yang quickly hides the ball she’s made, and sits up. You steel yourself, knowing that you’re probably going to be the one taken back to that dreaded room.

“You know… when I first found this picture… I paid it no mind.” Cinder walks down the hallway, flanked by Neo. You’ve never seen Neo without that smirk…

You stand, favoring your left leg. Your right still pains you from the helicopter crash.

“Oh, have a seat, Switch. This isn’t some picture of Weiss.” She turns to Yang, gazing down at a slip of paper in her own hands.

However, you manage to catch a glimpse of the picture. It’s four figures, all on a special forces team like RWBY. Lettering at the top reads ‘STRQ.’ One of the bunch stands out to you in particular… a woman with red eyes, and long, raven-colored hair. Hair styled just like Yang’s.

“But now… getting a second look at it…” Cinder turns to show it to Yang, who gasps in horror. “I know who this is, and why you keep it on you all the time.”

“Give. That. Back.” Yang stands, stepping up to the bars of her cell.

Cinder steps away, her eyes lighting up at Yang’s reaction. “It’s mommy, isn’t it? Raven Branwen?” She turns it back over, tracing a finger over each of the figures in the photo. “The only picture you have of her, since she left when you were born…”

“I swear—“

“Swear what? You’ll flare and come after me?” Cinder places one of her hands on her hip, shaking her head. “What did you say happened when you flared like that? You…. Burn?” She reaches into a pocket and pulls out a simple silver lighter.

“ _No._ ” Yang’s hands wrap around the bars, squeezing them tight enough for her knuckles to turn white. “Don’t. _Please._ ”

Cinder flicks the wheel on the lighter, creating a small, yellow flame. Yang shakes her head, reaching through the bars to try and swipe the picture or the lighter away. But she’s out of reach.

The picture creeps closer to the flame… and ignites. Small, gentle licks of flame at first, but before long, the entire picture is blackened and engulfed in flames. Yang sinks to her knees, and for a moment, you’re willing her to flare. For her eyes to go red, for her to lash out… anything but seeing her so… defeated.

She stares at the singed ashes on the ground, as if at any moment, they’ll return to their color and reform into the picture they once were.

“Neo, kindly open her cell and bring her with me. I still have a few more questions to ask her.”

Neo nods, with something that resembles a curtsy. She opens the cell door, and for once, Yang doesn’t fight back, or strain, as the cuffs go back on. She follows Neo’s pushes, still looking at the burned picture for as long as she can.

…

You sit against the wall of your cell, knees pulled up against your chest. It’s cold, still, and the tatters that are left of your undershirt and uniform pants are doing barely anything at all to take the chill off. You see your breath in front of you, somewhat labored from the weeks you’ve been here.

A loud bang, followed by grunts and the sounds of a woman in pain call attention away from the cold. You crawl over to the door of your cell, trying to look through the bars. Emerald and Mercury dragging Yang by her arms back to her cell across from yours. Unlocking it and tossing her to the ground within it before leaving right after.

You call out to Yang, but your voice is hoarse and barely heard. “Yang?”

She doesn’t move.

“Yang, are you still with me?”

Slowly, she pulls her knees up so that she is resting on her knees and elbows, and she starts a fit of coughing. Wretched, painful breaths come as a thick red paste drips from her mouth. She brushes her hair out of her face as she brings her head up to look at you. “Can’t… break me….”

With her head up, you finally see her new injuries. Her face is bruised, both eyes black as if she’d been hit across the head several times. There are burn marks trailing up her arms, as if they were made by electrical lines. And that’s just what you can see.

“You stay with me, okay? We’re gonna get out of this together.”

She brings a hand up to wipe all of the blood away from her nose and mouth. “Switch… I need…” She coughs again, even more blood landing on the ground. “I need you to do something… for me…”

“Anything. Tell me.”

She crawls over to the door of her cell, pulling herself up a bit using the bars. She reaches into her shirt, and pulls out her dog tags, disconnecting one of them and holding it in her palm. “We need to be realistic… If… if you make it out of here… give this to Blake…” She weakly tosses the lone tag over to you. It doesn’t make it all the way, but you reach an arm through the bars and pull it to you.

“Yang… you can’t give up like this.”

Her eyes turn a fiery red. “I’m not giving up! Just… “ She lets out a breath as they fade back to lilac, as if she doesn’t have the stamina to stay flared right now. “Give that to Blake. Please. She needs to have it.”

You look down at the piece of slightly bent metal stamped with Yang’s name, blood type, and other information. Some of Yang’s body heat still radiates from it. It remains speckled with her dried blood, but you solemnly connect it with your own, and tuck it under your shirt. That’s the safest place for it. “We’re getting out of here… I promise.”

Yang slumps back down against the bars of her cell, trying to hold herself up but failing in the process. She falls over, laying on the ground and occasionally coughing still. “We better…” Then, in a slightly more hushed tone: “I’ll… I’ll die before I break.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *ducking behind cardboard boxes again* I'd love to hear your thoughts!


	32. We're In This Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey, guys. I really didn't want to put this chapter out until the weekend, but seeing how this weekend will be shaping up for me... I decided to give it all to you now.
> 
> I'll say more down at the bottom.

“Yang… who were the other people in that picture? I recognized Qrow, but not the other three.” You’re sitting on your cot, your elbows on your knees. The cell is still especially cold, and no amount of shivering is helping to warm you up.

Yang’s sitting with her back against the bars of her cell across the hallway, her knees pulled in to her chest. The tips of her blonde locks are touching the concrete floor. “That… was team STRQ. Summer Rose. Taiyang Xiao Long. Raven Branwen. Qrow Branwen. Vale Special Forces at Beacon Field.” She sighs, then shakes her head, her hair hiding whatever expression she’s got on her face right now. She’s speaking monotone. Matter-of-fact. Hollow. “That was the only picture I had of my mother.”

It’s been at least a week since Cinder burned the photo… but Yang still hasn’t let it go.

“Taiyang is your dad?”

“Yeah.” Another sigh. “My mother left him after I was born.”

Your lips purse into a thin line. You have to get Yang’s mind off of this. “You said Summer Rose… was she Ruby’s mom?”

Yang nods, only evidence by the gentle shaking of her hair up and down. “She was like… super mom. The best chocolate chip cookies in the world, but also able to take the head off of a Grimm at range.”

“So that’s why Ruby likes chocolate chip cookies and sniper rifles…”

Yang shrugs. “Maybe. At least my mom just left. Ruby doesn’t know how her mom died…” Her sentence trails off, a lingering protectiveness lacing her words together.

_Ruby doesn’t know, but… Yang does?_

“I can’t wait to get back to Ruby. Ruby, Weiss, and Blake… I bet they’re worried sick about us.” You stand, limping over to the bars of your cell. You lean heavily against them.

Yang’s head turns, looking down the hallway, but at least you can hear her better now. And you can see the slight glimmer of hope, despite her black eye and bruised cheek. “Yeah… Weiss is probably worried about you.”

You somehow find the energy to smile at her. For once… it’s real. The thought of Weiss brings up the memory of the kiss you and her shared… “We start dating, and a few hours later, you and I go MIA.”

“Nobody’s ever gonna want to date you after this, Switch. Not with that record.”

You see it. _She’s starting to smile, too._

“Hey, that’s okay. As long as _Weiss_ wants to, that’s quite alright.” You pause, hesitating on your next remark. “I bet Blake is missing you, too…”

Yang chuckles, turning a bit so that she can face you. “Missing me? She’s probably out riding Bumblebee right now, having the time of her life away from me.”

Even though Yang deflected your comment with humor… the subtle glance at the ground reveals her true response.

_Yes. Blake… is probably worried sick._

“You two have a history, don’t you?” For a moment, you think about taking a knee or sitting on the floor, but decide against it. You’re already cold enough standing up.

“I’ll let her tell you that story when we see her next. Blake is… particular. Maybe slow to trust, but… fiercely loyal.” Yang smiles a bit more, her shoulders rolling back from how hunched over she was before. Relaxing. She reaches up and brushes back the dirty locks that had fallen over her face. You can see her eyes now. Lilac. A bit sunken and puffy, but… still their bright, normal lilac. “She is one hell of a woman.”

“I can see that.” You can’t help but let out a slight chuckle.

“So is Weiss, you know.” Yang’s gaze locks with yours, but you have to smile and turn away. “Atlas _officer_ , family history along with wealth, past helicopter pilot, and now specializing in air liaison.”

“Not to mention one hell of a breakfast chef.” You glance down, starting to feel a bit of heat in your cheeks. You scuff your boots against the wet floor. Wet because that tiny frosted glass window leaks when it rains.

Yang puts a hand up, casually pointing a finger at you. “Well, so are you.”

“Nah…” You shake your head. “Eggs are about the only thing I make well. You’re the better grillmaster.”

Yang hauls herself to her feet, gripping the bars for balance, but shrugging the compliment off with a grin. “What can I say? I… burn.” She laughs, somewhat forced, but you join in. It’s about all you’ve got right now.

The laugh lingers in the stale air of the hallway of cells. Solid block walls make _everything_ echo down here. However… it’s a nice change to know that for once, it’s laughter, and not coughing, wretching, or shouting that’s reverberating through your prison.

“Hey… I think I’m gonna try to grab some shut-eye. You good to be up for a little while?” You glance back at the tatters of your cot.

“Yeah. Go for it.” She pushes off of the bars, turning to look back to her bit of cell space.

You nod, not saying anything else and laying down on your back.

“Hey, Switch?”

“Mhm?” You crane your head to look at her.

She winks at you, giving you her trademark ‘thumbs-up.’ “Thanks. I needed that…”

…

_Falling._

“Get up, huntsman.”

Your head slams against the hard concrete floor, making your ears ring. Your hands are suddenly bound behind you as you’re hauled to your feet and slammed against the wall.

“You awake? Time to go. You and your bimbo teammate.”

Mercury. He’s in your face, grabbing your jaw and forcing you to look away from him. You hear the sound of blows being landed on flesh, and cries of pain that can only be Yang’s. Your stomach sinks in anticipation of the next round of interrogation that’s coming up.

Steel yourself. You’ve been through this before.

Resist by all means available. That’s what your training tells you. But nothing in any of those instructions and mock scenarios could’ve prepared you for something like this. God knows how many days of this…

Mercury pulls you off of the wall, giving you a shove towards the door of your cell. You’re weak, and your legs suddenly give out. You can’t stop yourself from hitting the ground. You try to pull your hands out, but they’re tight behind your back. The ground rushes up at you and you smack your face against it. Blood starts to flow from your broken nose. Again.

“Get up. No stopping or sulking.” He reels back and his foot slams into your ribs. The air is forced out of your lungs for a second. You gasp, feeling cold, dry air surge back into your chest, but you have no breath afterwards to cry out in pain. It’s… like you can breathe, but you can’t make any of it into words. Or anything to let Yang know that you’re with her, and that she won’t be alone this time. You and she can make it through anything if you’re together.

You’ve made it this far.

Happy place, Y/N. Weiss making eggs. Blake reading books in her hammock.

You struggle to your feet, in utter defiance of your captors because you know that Mercury secretly desires that you’d just stay down.

Yang’s gasping, depleted words echo through the concrete cells. “Get…. Off….” She’s fighting, too. Just like you told her. You’ll make it through this if you stick together.

You glance up in time to see Emerald haul Yang to her feet by thick blonde locks. “Move.” She drags Yang out of the cell, with you following at Mercury’s hard shoves.

Step. Step. Another step. Your whole body surges and heaves with each one, and it’s still hard to breathe. Maybe a bruised rib from Merc’s kick. You’re scuffing your feet with every step, which only makes it harder for you to keep going. Walking shouldn’t be _this hard_.

You watch the shadows move across the floor with each little progression forward. The door opening at the end of the hallway of cells, which assaults you with the sudden smell of diesel fuel. It’s something you’ve noticed before, and you’ve become accustomed to. The singular light in the center of the room stabs your eyes and forces you to squint, even though it’s only one bulb.

“Sit. Down.” His hands on your shoulders force you into the stiff fold-up chair that is still stained with a mix of Yang’s blood and your own from the last “interrogation session.” He binds your hands to the metal of the chair. Directly across from you is Yang, tied up in the same way. It’s the same room you’ve been to dozens of times in the past… who knows how long. Concrete floors with a drain in the center. Stacked boxes and green crates lining the walls and blocking your view. No windows. No outside sounds. Only echoes off of the plain, cinder block walls

Yang slumps back in the chair, looking at you and giving you a slight wink, even though her face is scratched and bloody, her hair is matted down, and her lips are cracked and swollen. Her eyes move slowly, lethargic from her apparent soreness and sleep deprivation. But you both were trained for this. You knew how hard it would be. Keep going. Keep fighting.

The familiar, female voice emerges from the shadows. “The dynamic duo returns…” Cinder moves into the view of that single hot light hanging down between you and Yang, each foot stepping in front of the other. She comes up in front of you, her hand tenderly traveling up your jawline, and then carding her hand through your hair. “We are still on the same questions, aren’t we? Just two simple answers...”

She brushes her hand the rest of the way through your hair, and turns, her clothing twirling around her and revealing a black tattoo on her back. “Since we’ve established that neither of you are afraid of your own pain…. Let’s see if you’re afraid of loss…”

When you came in, you caught a glimpse of Neo sitting on a crate in the corner, twirling something thin and shiny through her fingers. But now, she steps up to you and kneels, looking at you with that smirk and those separate-colored eyes. That shiny thing you saw is a dagger. A long, thin piece that resembles a much longer version of a stiletto. She cocks her head at you when you glance down at it in her gloved hands.

Cinder leans down, her face inches away from Yang. “Miss Long… We know that Vale is holding the White Fang Lieutenant. Where?”

 Yang turns, and somehow manages to summon up a glob of spit into Cinder’s face despite your own mouth feeling dry.

Neo leans forward, bringing the tip of the knife up to your neck. The only thing you feel is the very tip pressing against the underside of your chin. Something warm and stick slowly flows down from that point, getting stopped by your shirt.

 “Again. Where is the Lieutenant being held?”

“You won’t break me.”

“But we will break him.” She snaps her fingers.

With a motion quicker than you can catch, Neo’s other hand comes up to your throat. Her thumb is pressing _hard_ against your windpipe. It’s not enough to cut off your airway…. You can still breathe, but with every moment she’s pressing harder, and it’s harder to breathe.

You glance up at Yang, knowing that the color is starting to drain from your face. The gulps of air are now sips. You can hear your pulse racing in your ear.

One of the things you learned in training was how to control your heartrate. Relaxing. Focusing on slow, deep breaths. But when someone takes those breaths away from you… there’s not much you can do, even once panic sets in and your chest begins to convulse.

“Get. Off. Of. Him.”

Neo lets off, her hands goes up in a teasing surrender, eyeing Yang with that sinister smirk.

“So… she speaks.” Cinder puts her hands on her hips and straightens back up.

“If you touch him again, you’ll regret it.”

“Touch him? We’ll do more than that. His life is in your hands, firecracker.”

All of your senses are lying to you. The lines of the walls and the borders around the drain on the floor zig-zag across your vision. Your nose is clogged with dried blood. Nothing feels right—even that prick that Neo gave you feels so much worse than a shaving cut.

You feel the same steel that gave you that prick rest against your throat. Steady. Nonchalantly. _Like Neo’s done this before._

This… could be where it ends, Y/N.

“ _No..._ ” Yang lets out a pained breath. “You… get away from him…”

Cinder brushes a bloody strand of hair out of Yang’s face. “The answer.”

Yang drops her head, not saying anything. Her muscles tense, straining against the bindings.

Cinder’s gaze goes dark, bringing a hand up to signal to Neo.

They wouldn’t kill you. They need what you know.

“All yours, Neo.”

Yang’s eyes lock onto Cinder. They flare red, the bindings suddenly breaking as she surges forward, tackling Cinder to the ground. Her hands are on Cinder’s neck, a fist rising a split-second later.

The knife is gone from your neck in an instant as Neo flashes past you and blocks your view.

The fist drops, but not against Cinder’s face like you hope. Yang falls sideways, eyes fading out of red but not filling fully with their bright and lively lavender like normally. She glances down at her chest, where you finally see Neo’s blade shoved completely through. Almost… casually, Neo withdraws it as Yang falls backward.

Your eyes widen, nausea rolling in your stomach. But the shock of seeing Neo’s blade coated red. You’re frozen. Can’t speak. Can’t move.

Yang clutches at her chest, where a crimson pool is growing. The blood is bright. Oxygenated.

Cinder regains her feet, disgusted. “Ugh!” She wipes Yang’s blood off of her face, but only partially smears it. “I guess… this is how Goldilocks was supposed to end.”

Neo takes a knee beside Yang, her blade aimed at Yang’s throat, but Cinder catches her arm. “No. Let her bleed.” She glances back at you. “Let him watch.”

Yang gasps for air, both hands searching for the holes as if to plug them. With a surge of will and a growl that’s not exactly human, you break out of your shock and strain at the bindings, giving every ounce of strength you have left to break out. Not to lash out at your captors. But… to save her.

But you can’t get out. Yang is two feet in front of you, bleeding out just like every soldier who has died under your hands before. But this is different. This is Yang Xiao Long. Blake’s soulmate.

_Your teammate._

She gasps for air again, her hands slowing down. Those lavender seas of hers lock with yours, and for the first time in the whole time you’ve known her… you see fear. Fear of the unknown. You remember her dog tag around your neck. How you promised to give it to Blake if anything happened to her.

You’re not ready to do it. Not ready to give the news to Blake. Not ready to tell her story.

The last thing you see is Yang’s hands relaxing. Losing their grip, unable to plug the holes in her chest.

“Mercury. Cut him loose. Let him _comfort_ his dying teammate.”

_Bitch._

You sit there, struggling to get to her, but… by the time Mercury undoes whatever bonds that hold you to the chair, you can’t hear Yang breathing anymore.

You fall forward, collapsing against Yang’s body and into her own pool of blood. “Yang. Yang. C’mon. You can’t break. Get up. Yang.” You’re screaming, trying to tear off a piece of your shirt to help stop the bleeding. “ _We’re in this together. Yang!_ ”

You let out a heavy, pained sob, tears betraying whatever composure you had left as you curl up, your head against Yang’s chest and smearing your cheek with her blood.

_“I’m so, so sorry, Yang….”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... heart-to-heart. Emotion from the writer translates to the reader. I know what most of you are thinking, because I had to go through this again and again when writing, editing, rewriting, etc. Yang's gone. Sometimes, you lose people close to you when stuff starts hitting the fan. I'm sorry... 
> 
> But... I also want to say that I'm not a writer who plays with character's lives like they're expendable. I care so, so deeply about these characters. I want to see them power through everything. Through grief. Animosity. Inner-team struggles. Combat. RWBY is made up of wonderful characters who can make it through anything. This isn't going to become a mopey grief story. I promise. 
> 
> I know there's a million thoughts going through your heads, and if any of you all want to stop reading, please know that I fully understand, and don't blame you for it. However, if you'd like to talk about this, I'm open to active conversation in the comments. You all know that I read, cherish, and respond to every comment. I'm here to talk.


	33. Livestock

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You... you're still here? Thanks. For giving this whole fic a shot and coming back. I want you all to know that I appreciate each and every one of you that supported or critiqued my last chapter. I want to keep having dialogue and conversations with all of you! So... thanks, again.
> 
> One more thing... I know this one busted my promise of weekly updates, too, but it's for a good reason: I have been working heavily on For Thine is the Kingdom, and I'm excited to announce that it will come out today or tomorrow! I'm just waiting on my artist right now.

She’s not breathing, but her body is warm. You’re not sure if you should be able to hear her heartbeat with how you’re laying against her, but _it’s not there._ There’s nothing. She’s as still as the concrete floor.

But you can’t move. You’re still in shock. Frozen. Even the strength to pick yourself up off of the floor to lash out at Cinder, Neo, _someone_ is gone from you.

It’s only seconds before you’re grabbed by what’s left of your collar and hauled up. Your eyes can’t stray from Yang. Her blood on your hands, your clothes. The way it blossoms across her chest. The wetness as it makes your pants stick to your knees, but also how it’s starting to dry and crust on your cheek.

“What an interesting turn of events…” Cinder’s hand is against your jaw, forcing you to look up at her. The specks of crimson dotting her cheeks, some of them smeared from when she tried to wipe them away.

_I guess… this is how Goldilocks was supposed to end._

“What do you want me to do with him?” Mercury. From behind you. It’s Mercury who has you by the collar. “Kill him? She’s the one who had the information.”

Something—call it rage—flashes through you. You can’t help but curse. “You… you’ll die for that, _bitch._ ” You push forward, but only feel the grip around your throat tighten and stifle your airway, but you still get a few more words out. “You… and Neo…. and your two little—“

Mercury lands a blow to your back, just below your ribcage. Knocks the wind out of you. You can’t speak even if you wanted to. You’re falling towards the floor, and darkness claims you upon impact.

…

The next time you wake up… the only thing welcoming you is the wet floor of your cell once again. Like every time, you’re relieved to be out of that room with that hot light beating down on you, without your hands bound to that chair.

In your cell, nobody can touch you. You may be cold and uncomfortable, but overcoming that is just a deal with mental fortitude, which you’ve been honing since basic training. You climb up onto your cot, off of the floor, and pull your knees in to your chest.

There’s something inherently _different_ about this time, though. Without Yang there, playing with her little ball of cloth. For the first time since you were captured… you notice how quiet it is in the cell. Things like the buzz of helicopters or the smell of diesel fuel don’t seem to be there anymore. And it’s just because _Yang is gone._

You were the one who was supposed to die. It was Neo’s job to kill you, not Yang. But that still doesn’t take away the fact that she’s not coming back. You remember all of the moments you’ve shared with Yang. She was the first person you talked to from RWBY. She was right there with you every step of the way on the ground on your first mission.

She… she stopped you from running out there to help those soldiers during the mortar strike. Probably saved your life. Working on Bumblebee with her. Watching her try and beat Nora in a drinking contest. Her and those “Strawberry Sunrises.”

Her sudden changes from whimsical and flippant to serious and understanding, like during Albatross. Like… when she refused to let you look at her when she took the bullet to the plate.

There won’t be any new memories. Not between you and her, or her and Blake. _Because she’s gone._

You dig your tags out of your chest, and look over the third piece of bent, stamped metal attached to the nickel-plated chain. Everything’s there: Yang’s full name. Blood type. Service number. Religious preference.

It sinks into your hand, the few ounces turning to tons. The chain burns into your neck, a chunk of concrete creating a burden that you weren’t prepared for. You had put up your right hand and swore to give your life for the people of Vale, but your own personal oath didn’t stop there.  You’d do the same for the people of Atlas. Of Mistral. Of Vacuo.

_Maybe_ you were prepared to do that. But… were you prepared to watch your teammate, your friend, your sister-in-arms, die in front of you?

Nobody told you it was going to be this hard.

Are you prepared to tell her loved ones what happened?

You let go of the tag, causing it to fall and tap the fabric of your shirt. You lay sideways on your cot, closing your eyes in an attempt to sleep, however long it takes for that to come…

…

“So… here we are. Again. Just you and me, _Switch_.” Cinder’s added emphasis on your nickname makes nausea roll in your stomach. But you’re not looking at her. All you can do is look down at your feet. At the place where her blood was pooled just a day before.

You’re back in that same room, but… some things have changed. Or maybe you’re just now noticing them. It’s three shades brighter in the room—like someone decided to turn on at least more than half of the lights this time. Cinder is seated on one of those tan and green crates, legs crossed as she details one of her nails with a file. The floor is wet, but not bad enough to soak through your boots or anything.

“I already know that you don’t have the information I need. But… that doesn’t mean we have to stop having fun…” She puts the file aside, and saunters up to you, then takes a seat in your lap. You have no choice but to look into those _damn_ amber eyes. “A little bird told me that you and Neo were getting very acquainted with those little needles… so let’s start there.”

She cards her fingers through your hair once, then gets up off of you. You purse your lips and strain against your bindings momentarily, but they’re too strong.

_How did Yang break through them?_

Cinder turns back around, having picked up a small needle—the same size as a sewing needle but twice as long. She kneels in front of you. “I was thinking about something last night…” She starts at your left foot, and starts unlacing your boot. With the way your leg is held, however, you can’t lash out to kick her. Before long, your foot is bare. Cinder takes hold of it with one hand, and guides the needle closer to it with the other.

“W-why are you doing this?” You struggle to get out. In training they told you that if you can empathize with your captor, and figure them out on a personal level, you’d have a better shot at surviving, or winning them over.

“Oh, I thought you’d already figured that out…” The very tip of the needle penetrates the webbing between your first and second toe. “Let me answer a question, with a question…”

The needle delves deeper. _Out the skin on the other side._

“Do you really think you can _win_ this war?” Cinder starts to twist the needle, pulling it out but taking it slow. _Too slow._ “Do you think you can protect the citizens of Remnant, when you can’t even keep your teammate alive?”

The needle’s out. But it goes in again… farther up. Between the bones of the first and second toe. It’s ripping through muscle on the way. Tearing, but slowly. You feel each individual muscle fiber strain and snap. And every little movement—a curl of the toe, a tremble, anything—only moves the needle farther and sends a lightning bolt through you. The reflexes in your leg force your foot outwards, against the bindings… but it only serves to hurt even more.

“How is it going to feel when you have to tell that dear Blake Belladonna that her sweetheart, Yang Xiao Long, is never coming home?”

You turn your head, haunted by the thoughts of last night. She’s right, though. _How are you going to tell her?_

“What about Weiss? How is she going to handle this? There used to be only one relationship on your team before your lovely OP Afterburner. For a short time, there were two. And now… it’s just you and her.”

The same shock courses through you as when she first called you Switch. She knows all of that? Even stuff that only happened on your last mission?

Cinder’s voice lowers to a whisper. She angles the needle up towards your heel, pushing it deeper into your foot. It slides farther, _with ease_. Then, it stops. Strikes bone, and burrows deep. A screw burrowing into wood, the vibrations rippling up through the rest of your bones. “What’s going to happen when _you_ die? Who’s going to tell your story?”

You bite your lip, the needle and the words cutting deep.

_Where is your team right now?_

_Where’s the rescue force?_

_You’ve been here too long… have they forgotten about you?_

_Does ANYONE know where you are?_

“Oh, and then there’s Ruby… Ruby. Rose.” The needle comes out the underside of your foot, dead center in your arch. “The young team leader, who lost her sister and doesn’t even know it yet,”

There’s the needle again… behind your Achilles tendon. Tearing slowly inward, beneath the tendon. You tense when it suddenly strikes a nerve cluster and sends fire up through your leg.

“She’s not going to deal with this well, you know…” Cinder shakes her head mockingly, and when she glances up at you, she notices you biting your lip.

“Oh, now… no cause for that.” Her finger, disgustingly warm, brushes against your lips. “This isn’t even a quarter of what you’ll be feeling later.” She shifts forward and takes a seat in your lap once again. “You don’t have information. You’re not high enough to have a ransom payment, even if the kingdoms would pay it. And you and I both know that they won’t negotiate for you. So… you are a _toy_. _Livestock_. An experiment, so that when your teammates get here… I can show them the same pain that you’re going through.”

Your jaw clenches. “I… I trust my team. I trust in Vale. And when I get out of here… you…” Your breath sharpens as Cinder shifts her weight on you, causing the needle to dig deeper into new places. “We will hunt you. And find you. There is no place, no slimy rock you can—“

Cinder presses her finger to your lips, and pulls it away before the thought comes into your mind to bite at it. She chuckles, starting to grin. “Oh, Switch… you make me laugh.”

She stands, pulling the needle in your heel out quickly and making you momentarily gasp in pain. “You’re going to have _months_ to think about how you’re…” She laughs again, moving behind you. “… Going to kill me.” Another chuckle. “Goodnight, Y/N.” Her arm wraps around you in a blood choke, and less than ten seconds later… darkness claims you again.

…

You’re awoken from your stupor as you hear the sounds of doors slamming. Shouting.

Gunfire.

The air is still cold. Too cold. You’re back in your cell. You shiver, but slowly crawl over to the door of your cell, trying your best to look out but it’s too dark. Judging from the lack of ambient light, it’s nighttime. Midnight, perhaps. But you can’t tell for sure.

Wait… Gunfire?

Suddenly, the door that your guards normally come through swings open abruptly, with Mercury busting through and shouting at you. You can’t tell what he’s saying. There’s a pistol in his hand, which he points at your head. Between your eyes.

This is it. It happened to Yang, and now it’s happening to you.

Suddenly, there’s a flash of light. A deafening bang that disorients you and sends you onto your back.

_Is this what it’s like to die?_

The sound of a body slumping to the ground.

“Switch?!”

You open your eyes to see Blake in the doorway, gun still trained on Mercury’s lifeless body, now on the ground. Only that can’t be Blake. There’s no way she’s here. Your ears are still ringing, a loud bell resonating beside your ears.

“Come on, we’re getting you out of here.” She grabs a key off of his belt, and hastily unlocks the cell door.

Her sudden touch is _jarring._ Temporarily shaking you out of your stupor and assuring you that she’s there. It’s real. She’s beside you, helping you up and putting your arm around her shoulder. She grunts, hauling almost your full weight onto her as she helps you walk towards the door she came through. At least… maybe that’s the door she came through? You can’t tell. Part of your vision is pulsating, making you see spots from the flash.

Everything’s still spinning. You feel the sudden urge to vomit, but stifle it before it can rise in your throat.

At the moment… relief floods through you. You relax, knowing that with Blake there, you’re… safe. You just breathe as Blake walks you out. For once, you go through that door without the sickening knot in your stomach telling you that you’re about to be beaten. Or worse.

Is this just one of those dreams? Your mind going back to your happy place?

Fluorescent lighting stabs at your eyes, and you vaguely make out two more figures in the room, but that’s all. No faces, nothing about your surroundings. It’s like you’re _walking_ on pure, white light.

That… that _has_ to be real. It has to.

You hear a gasp, as someone else is taking up your other arm. You still can’t quite see who it is because of the light. “Easy… easy, sweetheart…”

It’s… Weiss? “Where’s Yang? Is she here?”

“She… I don’t know.” your gut churns, trying to come up with an answer. Yang’s dead. Why are they asking you where she is? But thoughts, sensations, feelings still roll around your mind and your vision. Processing each part of her question individually. The room is rocking like a dinghy on the ocean. Can they feel that? “No, she’s not here…”

“What do you mean, _not here?_ ” Blake gives you a nudge, but you feel yourself fading. The stress, the sleep deprivation, knowing that it’s all over… unconsciousness is pulling at your mind, little by little.

Ruby’s voice, something you realize you haven’t heard in… in… God knows how long. “Blake. We have to get him out.”

 Weiss chimes in, but the voices are starting to intertwine together. Hard to tell who is who. “They probably moved Yang. Split them up.”

“But intel said that Yang would be here, too.” Blake asserts.

Ruby jumps in, her voice hurried and almost sounding… worried. “Weiss is right, Blake. Intel has been wrong before.”

“But we can’t just-“

Weiss lets go of your arm when you and Blake get to the door on the opposite side of the room. “Blake, we’ve searched every inch of the place. Cleared every room. She’s not here. But we’ll find her. I promise.” She kicks open the door, and the smell of oil and aviation gas thickens. Sounds of gunfire, shouting, and helicopters suddenly assault your ears. “We’ll give you cover. You got him?”

You clutch your chest, breaths suddenly coming very painfully. You can only take in shallow sips of air at a time. “Weiss… Ngh…” Your vision blurs, and you can’t hold yourself up anymore. Even with Blake supporting you, you crumple to the ground and fade into darkness.

…

Helicopter rotors. Darkness still, but you see Blake and Weiss kneeling beside you as you feel the movements and vibrations carrying you out.

“Weiss, he’s awake.”

“Hang in there, Y/N. You’re safe. You’re going home.”


	34. Sorry Isn't Enough

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Hello again, everyone! This chapter is a very, very special one. Let me explain: flagbearer-or-scouts submitted a “fanfic of a fanfic” in response to Yang’s death. Well… the scene was absolutely perfect. Flawless. So… I decided to include it in this chapter! I’ll bold her section so that you know what’s hers. Please go check her stuff out! It’s amazing.
> 
> With that being said, I hope you enjoy this chapter. I loved writing it and including flagbearer’s work.

You’ve been here before. Woken up to the smell of antiseptic and air that’s simply _too_ clean. No sounds except the steady, gentle beeping of hospital monitors nearby.

But there is something else, beneath the antiseptic. The faint smell of… alcohol?

You open your eyes, scanning the room and dreading dispelling whatever dream you might be in. For the first time in _months_ … you’re comfortable. Waking up from peaceful sleep. You sit up slowly, worrying that any movement or misplaced sensation could shatter this dream.

“…Qrow?” Your voice is faint. And _hoarse._ Sandpaper against your throat.

The unshaven Qrow Branwen is sitting on an Ottoman in the corner of the room, slumped over against one of the walls and fast asleep. He stirs, bringing a hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose as he begins to wake.

The blinds are drawn shut, but the ambient lighting from the hallway combined with the white paint on the walls serves to illuminate the room well, but not too bright to be unpleasant for your eyes. Still… this room is _too_ whitewashed. _Too_ clean. And it’s three degrees too cold for your liking.

You’re still not convinced that this isn’t some odd dream… that you’re not about to wake up to Neo dragging you back to that chair with Cinder again. But as you look closer, you see the scratches and micro-wounds that criss-cross Qrow’s face and bare arms. Those are new. You wouldn’t imagine those in a dream.

His red-brown eyes open, smiling with a smirk when he sees that you’re awake. “Hey.” He stands, taking a few steps forward to your bedside. His hand reaches into his jacket and pulls out a black and green flask with some form of emblem on it.

So that’s where the alcohol smell came from.

He swigs from it, screwing the cap back on and sliding it back to the rightful place in his jacket.

You… you have to ask.

“Where am I?” A pause. “And where is my team?”

“Relax, Y/N.” He seems to be able to read your mind. “You’re not dreaming. You’re at the hospital at Beacon Field. Safe.” He reaches into his coat again, then stops. “Your team’s downstairs, grabbing some food in the cafeteria. At least, Ruby, Blake, and Weiss are.”

_Yang._ Your hand fires up to your chest, searching for your tags. Counting how many you have hanging from the chain. There’s three. _Her tag is still there._

Qrow notices, glancing at your hand grasping at your tags. “Want me to call them up?”

_Are you ready to tell them?_

“I… yeah.” As much as you don’t want to break the news to them… it’s been months. You need your team right now. “And a nurse. I need to get out of here.”

“That makes two of us. I’ll be back.” With that, he takes another swig from the flask, and walks out through the open door on your right.

…

“Y/N…” Weiss is the first one through the door. Making a beeline to you and sitting on the edge of the bed. In an instant, her arm is around you. Pulling you close but still so, so gently as if you’re fragile, and she doesn’t want to break you in any way. “You dolt… kissing me then getting captured less than a day later…”

Ruby chuckles, coming around to the other side to smile at you beside Blake. Scars and wounds are still apparent from the rescue—small cuts and red, windburnt faces. One of them still smells like gunpowder.

“How are you feeling?” Ruby asks.

Weiss slowly releases you, and you get the sense that she actually doesn’t want to let go. Neither do you.

“I’m…” You take a general inventory of yourself, still weak and trying to feel out where you’re still hurting. Your knee, your back, your feet, your hands, hell…. Everything hurts. “I’m okay. Just a bit of throbbing.”

You look at each of them, noting the bags under their eyes and slightly disheveled hair. None of them had been sleeping… Blake looks worst of all. You’ve known each of them long enough to know exactly when they’re trying to force a smile for you. Even then… Blake is making a good attempt for you.

There’s a knock at the door, and a woman with dark black hair enters, in the uniform of a Vale officer. “Hi, Y/N? Just coming in to run a few tests and see how you’re feeling… I’m Dr. Roberts. Sapphire Roberts.” True to her name, the woman had deep blue eyes to complement her black hair. She glances down at a clipboard she had been keeping under her arm. “But… don’t let me interrupt anything. I can check your vitals while you talk.”

She eyes the monitors all around you, weaving around Weiss, Blake, and Ruby.

You think for a moment. There’s a question lying under the surface, something close. But… you can’t talk about it yet. Not now…

“Hey. What happened in Mistral? Where are we at in the war?”

Weiss shakes her head. “Switch, you’re back with the team for less than ten minutes and you want to talk about the war?”

You nod. “Yeah, actually. We’ll be back out there at some point.” That’s a lie. The war is the last thing on your mind.

Weiss eyes you, cocking her head slightly. Maybe she sees through your lie. Maybe not.

Ruby’s the one to speak up. “After you went down, the Grimm launched a fierce counter-offensive… we lost Begonia, but we regrouped and kept them from pushing any farther. Once again, Vacuo saved our butts. The came in from the east and we were able to roll back the Grimm offensive.” A sigh. “There’s still a front in Mistral, but from what we’ve heard….” She glances at Blake. “We’re holding our own.”

“Sorry…” The doctor interrupts, reaching over you to fidget with some of the telemetry on your chest. You can’t help but notice how Ruby glances away for a second to give you privacy. Weiss doesn’t. “Okay… your readings are all coming back to normal. Your heartrate is regular and even again, your blood pH and oxygen levels look good, and from my observation…” She presses on the top of your hand, watching the perfusion. “You’re much less dehydrated than when these girls first brought you in. Running that IV drip overnight was a good idea.”

You chuckle, glancing down. “So… when can I get out of here?”

She shrugs. “We’re gonna keep you another night or two. You just got out of 5 months of captivity, Y/N. We _should_ keep you for at least a week, but you Huntsmen and Huntresses are fit enough that your bodies bounce back pretty quickly.”

You smile, both at her response and at the cool feeling of Weiss’s hand suddenly lacing into your own. “Thanks, doc…”

…

“So… again. When can I get out of here, doc?” It’s been two days since you woke up to Qrow.

Dr. Roberts is glancing at a clipboard, making notes as she reads your cardiogram off of another monitor on the wall. “Well… your knee needs some therapy with how it healed. But… other than that…”

She smiles at Weiss, suddenly walking in through the door and coming to be by your side.

“… I’d say you’re good to go. Take it easy, though. No heavy lifting. Eat, drink, sleep. You know the drill. I don’t want to see you back in here again.”

You straighten up as she heads out the door. “Yes, ma’am.”

Weiss, Blake, Ruby…. They’re all here in the room with you now. Attention all on you, and ready to take you back. But… you have to tell them.

**Weiss moves towards you as you stand up off the edge of the hospital bed, placing her hand gently on your chest only to pull it back at your sharp gasp of pain. You can feel Weiss’s gaze on you, and she carefully grabs your arm, moving it to wrap around her shoulders. Apologetically, you shrug her off. You stumble slightly in the process.**

**“Weiss…” You clench your jaw for a moment as you straighten up. Your voice is soft. “I’m okay.”**

**She looks at you. “Don’t pull that with me,” she snaps, but the relief softens her words. “You can’t lie to me anymore.”**

**You gaze travels past Weiss to Blake. Nausea rolls in your stomach but you swallow it down. Yang’s tag feels too heavy for your neck. It burns against the skin of your chest. Blake is talking in a soft, worried voice with Ruby, her gaze flickering to you, then at the door across the room. Your next breath shakes when it comes out of your mouth. Weiss notices—what _doesn’t_ that girl notice?—but she attributes it to pain, saying something about your medication or the doctors. The truth is, you aren’t really listening.**

**“I have to talk to Blake,” you say.**

**“Y/N,” Weiss says, her voice soothing and gentle, the concern palpable. “You’re shaking.” She’s touching your bicep. Your stomach. It hurts, everything still hurts, but you let her anyway. There’s something distinctly _grounding_ about her touch right now.**

**“Am I?” you wonder aloud, but only in a whisper. “I hadn’t noticed.” You turn your back to Blake and pull your tags out from under your shirt.**

**“Y/N, what are you….” Weiss trails off, her eyes going wide when she sees Yang’s attached to yours. When you unfasten it and fold your hand over it, turning back around, Weiss backs away. Gives you space.**

**When your gaze and Blake’s suddenly lock on to one another, you know that you can’t run. Every fiber of your being wants to bolt through that door behind you and never come back—anything to avoid what lies ahead of you—but you force a step forward because you _promised_ her. The next step you take feels just as hard as the first, and you wonder if you will ever be able to move without feeling heavy.**

**You can hear her voice in your head. As clear as when she talked to you at your first real warzone. _It never gets easier._**

**“Blake…” you say as you walk over to her.**

**“Where’s Yang?” The question comes bravely and immediately. There’s a defiance in those amber eyes and you wish you had that kind of fight still in you. Some distant part of you remembers being asked the question once already. _What had you said?_ You can’t remember. Memories of images and sounds swirl together in fragments that you’re still struggling to piece together.**

**Your throat closes up at the question but you force the words through it anyway. “Blake, Yang…she’s…” Your fist clenches around the dog tag in your hand.**

**“She’s what? Do you know where they moved her?” Her voice is earnest. “We have to go back for her, Switch.”**

**You shut your eyes. You were tortured for God only knows how long, but you wonder if any of it came _this_ _close_ to breaking you. “She… Yang made me promise that…” You’re floundering for words because everything sounds wrong. There are no _right words_ in moments like these. **

**You can’t look Blake in the eyes—you hate yourself for it—but you can hear in her voice that she’s starting to piece your fragments together. “What did you promise her?” There’s an edge to her words. Like something dangerous lies just below the surface. And you know the contents in your hand are about to break through it.**

**You open your palm anyway, holding it out to her. “That I would give this to you.”**

**Blake stares at your hand for a moment. She doesn’t take the tag. “No. You said that she wasn’t there. Not that… she…” Blake shakes her head with a vehement denial, her eyes bright and pained.**

**“Blake,” you plead. “I’m so sorry…”**

**“No!” Blake yells. Before you can react, your back and head slam into something _hard_. The dogtag clatters to the floor. **

**You release a small cry of pain, but Blake has your shoulders pinned against the wall. Her amber eyes are hard, tears pooling in them, her brow furrowed. Her jaw is clenched, her grip against you keeping you from going anywhere. Not that you’re trying to anyway. The tag lays forgotten by Blake’s feet.**

**“Blake!” Weiss’s sharp, alarmed voice cuts through the chaos. A part of you had expected Blake to run. It’s what she usually did, like that night at the bar when Weiss got drunk, but when you think about it—when you realize that this is about _Yang_ …**

**You send a look to Weiss over Blake’s shoulder, ever so subtly shaking your head. _Don’t,_  you silently ask. Weiss stops.**

**“I’m _sorry_ ,” you repeat, turning your attention back to Blake. Suddenly, the door slams closed and you chance a glance over the girl’s shoulder to notice Ruby is gone. You look at Weiss again, then flicker your eyes to the door. _Go after her_. Weiss hesitates, then pushes through the door after your team leader.**

**Blake clenches her eyes shut. It sends a few of the tears down her cheeks. “Sorry isn’t enough! Sorry doesn’t bring her _back_.” Her arm presses you harder into the wall, grabbing a handful of your shirt. Her nails unconsciously dig into the raw skin beneath it. You swallow back the gasp of pain. **

**“I know,” you say. You can feel your own tears threatening to claw their way up to your eyes. “I…” You trail off because Blake’s anger is justified. Because there is nothing you can say. Nothing you ever could. Because you couldn’t save Yang, and that’s on you.**

**“Why?” Blake demands. More tears fall down Blake’s cheeks as she shakes you roughly. “Why did she die? Why did they kill her?”**

**Your stomach rolls as the onslaught of memories seizes you with enough force to knock you breathless. “Me,” you manage, feeling your lungs constrict and you swear you can _hear_ Yang’s labored, wheezing breaths still echoing in your ears. _You…get away from him…_ Those were her last words. “She… was trying to protect me…” You muster up every ounce of courage you have and look Blake in the eyes. You’re expecting hatred, but it doesn’t matter, because you’re certain that however much Blake hates you, it can’t possibly be more than you hate yourself in this moment.**

**The hatred isn’t there. Instead, raw and unadulterated grief is etched into her irises like broken shards of glass. “She can’t be _gone_.” Blake’s voice cracks with the beginning of a sob before she cuts it off. Blake’s hold on you slips, but you don’t move. Blake is still gripping your shirt. “God, _I should have been there_.”**

**She lets go of your shirt as she slowly drops to her knees on the floor, picking up the forgotten tag. Blake’s own fist closes around it for a moment, her other hand wiping fruitlessly at her damp cheeks.**

**She fastens Yang’s tag onto her own and whispers what has been echoing in your head over and over again with a repetition that etches the words into your bones with precision and clarity.**

**“ _I’m so, so sorry, Yang_.”**

…

_Where's Ruby? --Switch_

_We’re at the shooting range… --Weiss_

A pause as you look at your scroll, typing the letters out with your thumb hovering over the send button. A reply comes in before that, however.

_You should come here. --Weiss_

_As long as Blake isn’t in a bad spot. – Weiss_

You delete your reply, and type up a new one.

_I'll be there. 10 minutes. -Switch_

Blake… after taking you back to the hangar… she climbed up onto Yang’s bed, sitting on the edge of it as her thumb brushes back and forth across Yang’s tag. No more tears stream down her face, but… it’s probably because she has no more left. The same disbelief, the same guilt and grief are present in her eyes as they were when you told her that the love of her life isn’t coming home.

It’s… it’s probably best to leave her be for now. For once… something in the back of your mind tells you that nothing you say or do is going to make this easier for her.

You need to drive a short ways over to the range… you head around the back of the hangar, but it’s not the usual walk. You pass the grill and the deck chairs, where Yang cooked steaks for you and the team.

The open garage, where Bumblebee sat on its kickstand. A horse without its rider.

Pictures of boxers and motorcycles on the walls of the garage, as well as her toolbox sitting on a workbench.

_Nothing is going to be the same._

…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feels, right? Too many feels...


	35. Not Today

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I'm so, so sorry about the temporary hiatus, but as I've already reflected in some of the comments, I took a bit of time off to sort things out on my own end. Enjoy the new chapter! I'd love to hear what you think.
> 
> Special thanks, as always, to flagbearer_or_scouts for her awesome help. She rocks.

Stepping onto the outdoor range, you immediately hear the shots. How can you miss them? Rifle rounds, all fired in quick succession, followed right afterwards by rapid-fire pistol rounds. There’s only one shooter here today, and you don’t need to see Weiss standing half a dozen bays down to know that’s where Ruby is.

Your steps are tough. Painful. Even though Yang’s tag is no longer around your neck, you still feel the weight. The burden of _knowing_ that’s she’s gone. How she died. Ruby doesn’t know. She’s your team leader… but how is she going to take this? Shove you up against a wall like Blake did?

Weiss puts her arm around your waist, and while it’s a gesture of affection, you can feel how she tugs you to lean into her. How her eyes are still scanning you like they did when you dove on that grenade, as if any new injury is suddenly about to appear. She takes some of your weight, something that you’re thankful for.

That’s when you smell it. Hot metal. In combat, it’s something you never want to sense. Here on the range, it’s not as bad, but it’s uncalled for.

It’s both of Ruby’s weapons. Crescent Rose-- her sniper rifle, leans against the ledge of the outdoor shooting bay, its buttstock sitting on the dusty concrete amongst dozens of spent shell casings. Her pistol is in front of her on the ledge, along with stacks of ammunition. Amongst the shells around her feet are more empty cartridge boxes.

She’s feeding fresh rounds into her magazines. One round after the other, sloppily jamming each one into the magazine. Her thumbs are raw, coated with gun grease and powder residue. You’re surprised they haven’t split open and started bleeding. Or maybe they have, and you just can’t tell.

With one more round, she slams a magazine into her pistol and holsters it. She picks up Crescent Rose, jamming the box she was just loading in and pressing the bolt release. She’s sloppy. Uncoordinated. You’ve seen her perform these rehearsed actions dozens of times in the heat of combat. Even in those situations, she never let emotions bog down her shooting this much.

She shoulders the rifle, aiming down the sight at one of two steel targets. One is roughly 50 yards away, the other closer at roughly 15.

You take a step forward. “Ruby…”

She doesn’t hear you. Or she’s ignoring you.

Her rifle erupts. Gunshot. Gunshot. The concussion wave of the massive round strikes you in the chest and makes you take a step backwards as Weiss braces you more. Maybe you’ve just been out of it too long… but like earlier today, there’s something very grounding about Weiss’s touch.

There’s less than a second between each shot, and Ruby stays steadfast. One foot in front of the other, the recoil not bothering her at all. Each time she pulls the trigger, the steel echoes with the report of the bullet hitting it.

Crescent Rose’s action locks back. Stays open.

“Ruby… I…”

Ruby drops her rifle to let it hang against her chest by the sling. Her hand drops cleanly to her pistol, getting a solid hold and snapping upward to the closer target.

These shots are much quicker. You wince as Ruby fires, extinguishing the 15-round magazine in less than 5 seconds. All vital hits on the steel target.

The slide locks back, Ruby dropping the magazine to the ground with a tinny, metallic clank.

Now’s your time.

You step forward, your hand falling to her shoulder lightly.

She suddenly slams her pistol down against the wooden ledge of the shooting bay. For a moment, you swear you hear the wood straining and cracking.

Ruby’s head droops with a shake.

“Switch. Y/N.” Another shake of her head, her eyes closing shut. For a moment, before the slight wind blows her hair across her face, you see the puddles of tears at the corners of her eyes.

“Yeah?” Voice still hoarse. Like trying to exhale a lump of gravel.

Weiss’s eyes on you, concerned, but not jumping in.

“Yang… she’s my sister. Her and I… we’ve been through so much, together…” Ruby drops so that her elbows bang against the ledge as she buries her face in her hands. A shaky breath. Something like a sob. “I just can’t believe that she died alone. Without any of us there. Without _me_ there.”

You remember what happened. Crystal clear. You painfully comb through the files in your head, taking in a shaky breath of your own. “Ruby… I was there.”

Weiss’s breath catches. Her grip around your waist gets ever-so-slightly tighter.

“What?” Ruby turns to look back at you, silver eyes wide and clouded with water. Her voice is higher than normal. Fighting back a sob.

“I…” _What happened in that moment? Do you even want to remember?_

“I watched her die. I was _there._ ”

Ruby pushes herself up off of that table, trying to blink away the tears. “I…”

She buries her face in her hands. It only takes a moment before the glisten of water rolls through her fingers. “I’m sorry… I’m so sorry that we didn’t find you sooner….”

This girl just found out that her sister is never coming home. That the Grimm are pressing even harder. That her team is grieving and on the verge of breaking down under her, _and she’s apologizing to YOU?_

“We did the best we could, Ruby…” Weiss offers. She means it, with something beneath that you can’t quite place yet. Guilt? Maybe. Your focus is on Ruby, though.

“But she’s still _gone._ ” Ruby’s added emphasis on that last word is enough to make your stomach churn.

“I know…” That’s all you can come up with?

Weiss’s other hand—her left—comes up to rest on your chest. Over your heart.

“Switch…” Ruby sighs, a breath that you can tell is a pale attempt at gathering her thoughts. “I… I can’t imagine what that must’ve been like. I’m sorry, again… that we didn’t get to you sooner.” She looks up at you, eyes meeting yours as if she’s trying to speak to you as your team leader, and not Yang’s sister. “When you want to talk it out… about how…” Hesitation lingering on her words. Trying to fight it off of her tongue. “… my sister died… just come find me.”

…

“We should go. It’s what she would’ve wanted us to do.” Weiss speaks in a low voice to Ruby and Blake while you sit on the edge of your bed in the hangar.

“I know, but….” Ruby is rubbing her eyes. Pinching the bridge of her nose. Her eyes are red, as are Blake’s, no doubt a result of the past few hours since you met Ruby on the range. “I don’t want to believe that she’s the one we’re doing it for.”

Blake chimes in. “We did it for BRNZ. We did it for those before them. I’d do it for any one of you, or JNPR, or any other soldier fighting in this war.”

You stand, ambling over to the conversation and taking your place next to Weiss. You don’t have to ask what they’re debating in order to know. “Weiss is right. She would’ve wanted us to do it.”

Blake shakes her head and lets out a long, shaky breath, looking down at the ground. “For her.”

Ruby nods, echoing Blake. “For her.”

Weiss nods, leaving the circle you’ve all made in the middle of the hangar. “I’ll drive.”

The front leather seat of Weiss’s SUV sucks the heat out of your back throughout the short drive to the Crow Bar. Ruby and Blake sit in the back two seats, quietly looking out the windows and pretending to take in the sight of the base they’ve driven through time and time again. They’re not focused on the outside. They’re focused on what you have to do.

You mechanically undo your seatbelt and climb out the door after arriving, as Weiss’s gaze still watches you carefully. Alcohol probably isn’t the best thing for you right now, but at this point… who gives a damn?

Rupert’s friendly voice resonates across the parking lot as he spies you and the team through the open front of the bar. “RWBY!” He’s waving. “It’s been a while.”

You’re the only one to offer the wave back, but not one of you tries to force a smile. You can’t. Even the warmth of the day and the gentle, easy breeze can’t lighten your mood. This is the kind of day where kids in Vale are making patterns with sidewalk chalk and riding their bikes through the streets. It’s the kind of day where they call some friends for a game of football while their parents fire up the grill and crack open a few cold ones.

They don’t know how good they have it, do they? The fact that they sleep soundly, every night, because you, Ruby, Blake, and Weiss stand guard? Will they ever know the price that Yang paid for them?

“The last time I saw you, Yang challenged Nora from JNPR to that drinking contest. We never did figure out who won that one, did we?” Rupert sets down the pint glass and throws the towel down onto the bar counter.

Weiss responds. “You’re right. It’s been quite a while…”

Rupert scans the four of you, and pushes himself back up off of the counter. “Where’s Yang, anyway? Figured she’d never turn down one of my Strawberry Sunrises.”

Dead silence. Glances at Ruby. Glances at Blake.

That Cheshire smile Rupert wears starts to fade. “Wait. Seriously, though. Where is she?”

Nothing.

You’ve already told the team Yang’s fate. Here’s to one more….

“Rupert…” You start. “Four glasses with your best brew. And one more—“ Something catches in your throat as the pangs from having to tell the team, having to give Yang’s tag to Blake, rise up again.

Weiss is the one to finish your sentence. “One more… inverted.”

Rupert’s hand clenches into a fist. Working at a bar on a military base, he’s seen this before.

You purse your lips, and you can’t look him in the eyes. You can only gaze at your hands, still cracked open and rubbed raw from your time in captivity.

He does as you asked. Four pint glasses filled with amber liquid and topped with bubbling foam. One in front of each of you, and then one more glass, placed upside-down on the dark wood counter of the bar.

Your fingers curl around the glass. Silence still covers the four of you sitting there, and you don’t dare glance sideways to see what the others are doing. Before you joined the team, Yang sat in the barstool you’re sitting in now. She was the one who cracked jokes and made the team laugh and challenged Nora to drinking contests. Things that she’ll never get to do again. No more fits of laughter or sloppy, drunken comments about her and Blake’s romantic life.

Now she’s gone. _Because of you_.

You raise the pint, slowly. “She shall not grow old, as we that are left grow old…”

Weiss closes her eyes, lifting hers as well. Her voice is rushed. Tight. “Age shall not weary her, nor the years condemn…” She barely finishes before you catch the faintest rise in pitch, her voice nearly cracking.

Everything seems to go quiet, even in two or three ambient conversations of the other patrons or the cars driving by on the street.

Ruby sobs, but raises hers and continues. “At the going down of the sun and in the morning…”

Blake solemnly finishes the toast, gently lowering her voice as if to conceal it, to hide it under the ambient noise of the bar. “We will remember her.”

In unison, you, Ruby, Blake, and Weiss repeat: “We will remember her.”

You bring the glass to your lips, letting the condensation soak your chapped lips before tilting it back and swigging your first mouthful. It’s bitter. Thick. But tonight, you need the kick.

The gentle clink of glasses reverberates to either side of you as your team sets their glasses down.

“There…” Blake starts to speak, seemingly hesitating part of the way through her words. “There’s something I did for Yang a while back. Something I wanted to keep between her and I, but… with her gone….”

Blake reaches into a side pocket and pulls out a small book. It’s black, with golden pages. A yellow ribbon splits it, down the center as if someone had bookmarked a page with it. You’ve seen it in Blake’s stack of books once or twice before.

“A few months ago…I gave this to her.” Blake purses her lips before cracking it open to the marked page. From where you’re sitting, you can see black cursive script that’s not entirely distinguishable. “It’s a book. A book where for the whole year… I wrote what kind of impact she had on me every single day. The steaks after missions. Smearing Bumblebee’s grease on my face. The day where she wouldn’t let Switch look at her. ‘Wrestling’ in the combatives room.” The faintest hint of a smile formed at her lips with more water welling in her eyes.

“Blake…” Ruby gently reaches over, trying to nudge the book closed. “That’s between you and her…”

Blake shakes her head. “No. If… any of you want to page through it… I’d allow it. We all were close to Yang… and it’s always going to hurt…” She pulls her own dog tags out of her shirt, gazing at Yang’s bent and rusted tag connected to her own, her brow furrowing. “We… we’re going to have to get back out there. Get back in the—“

She’s interrupted by Ruby placing her hand on Blake’s forearm. “Not today, Blake.” Your team leader shakes her head, her other hand wrapping around the pint glass in front of her. “We’ll get back out there, but not today…”

…

 


	36. Shut Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Holy crap, I'm so sorry, guys. It's been more than 3 weeks that I've kept you waiting, and for that I'm sorry. I literally made headway on this thing, word at a time. More of a slog than actually writing.
> 
> Eternal thanks to those of you who keep commenting and keep patiently waiting for these chapters. Also, super special thanks to Flagbearer for her continued support and editing skills.

Two drinks down. Empty pint glasses sitting in front of you. Rupert’s been keeping his distance, only approaching the team to give you fresh, full glasses.

Weiss still isn’t through her first. Well, not completely. There’s still an inch of now-warm amber liquid at the bottom of her glass, seated on top of a drying ring of condensation on the smooth wood of the bar top.

Blake and Ruby are about at the same point that Weiss is. But they’re not drinking for celebration or for any reason in particular, and neither are you. You’re drinking because it’s something cold in front of you.

“Hey… we should probably get going.” Weiss is leaning over and glancing at the clock on the wall behind the counter. The clock’s black background and white markings remind you of the altimeters used in aircraft. However, the dying light outside isn’t enough to convince you that three hours have passed.

Ruby trails her finger around the rim of the glass, then shakes her head in response to Weiss’s suggestion. “I… I already called my dad. He’s gonna meet me tonight. I have to tell him in person.”

You nod. It’s only the first day since you told them. Makes sense…

“Do you need a ride there?” Weiss follows up moments later, sitting up in her chair at the same time and waving a hand for Rupert to come back.

“No… I’ve been texting back and forth. He’ll be on base in about a half hour.” Whether or not Ruby knows that her breaths are coming faster in preparation for what _she_ has to do is a different story.

It’s a feeling that you know all too well.

“Hey, Weiss…” Blake pushes her glass forward and reaches back to pull a bundle of lien out of one of her pockets. “Do… you think you could drop me off somewhere else before heading back to the hangar?”

Weiss cocks her head. “Sure… if you’re positive you’ll be alright.”

Blake reaches up and pulls the bow out of her hair and sets it on the countertop, letting out a breath as if it suddenly relaxes her. “I will… Yang and I… we had an apartment in Vale. Something we’d get away to whenever we needed.” She reaches up and pinches the bridge of her nose. “I’m gonna stay there tonight.”

Rupert comes over and stands in front of Blake, pushing the lien back towards her. The wave of his hand tells you all you need to hear. _On the house._

“You call me if you need _anything_ , okay?” Weiss’s eyes glance between Blake’s own and her Faunus ears.

“I will. Thanks, Weiss…” Blake stands, brushing a strand of hair out of her face before pausing for a moment and looking at her bow with pursed lips and drooped ears. She collects it with her hand and just shoves it into a pocket. “Ready to go?”

“Yeah, but… same goes for you, Ruby.” Weiss turns her head to lock gazes with her team leader, strands of hair beginning to fall out of the tie and dangle across her face. “You pick up your phone and call me. I don’t care how little it is.”

Weiss’s sudden commanding tone strikes you with an odd dissonance of stress and concern. You know that Blake and Ruby are still reeling, but other than the toast, she hasn’t shown whatever grief or guilt or regret lies underneath that plastic smile. Well, it’s not much of a smile, but still. You can see the bags under her eyes and the tangles in her hair. The expanded, toned shoulders that she had going into Afterburner have diminished, evident by how much lower the white cammie sits on her traps. So… what else is going on in that head of hers?

What else is going on in yours?

“Promise I will. Just take care of yourself, too.” Ruby glances up at the clock again, and lets out a sigh.

“Don’t worry, Ruby. I’ve got Y/N to take care of me. We’re all in this together.”

You bury your face in your hands. It’s a passing comment, trying to deflect Ruby’s response with a bit of humor, but… it strikes a dissonance with you. Since that’s what you told Yang.

_You stay with me, okay? We’re gonna get out of this together._

_Yang. Yang. C’mon. You can’t break. Get up. Yang. We’re in this together. Yang!_

Weiss says something else that you don’t quite catch. You can’t quite shake the feeling that _you_ did this to the team. You delivered the news. You got shot down with Yang. You’re the reason she’s dead.

A hand on your shoulder. Slightly cool to the touch and somewhat foreign, even though you follow it up to find Weiss at the other end. She mouths words that may have sound to them, but you can’t tell.

Her brow furrows and her eyes narrow, Her grip on your shoulder tightens, and _now_ you can hear the words this time. “Good to go?”

You blink, _hard_ , and nod. “Yeah. Let’s go.”

…

Back at the hangar. Only a handful of lights on that makes the tables, weapon racks, and bunks look more like shapes and shadows than your team quarters.

You’re sitting on the edge of your bed with the hangar doors wide open, as Weiss stands over by the weapon rack and workbench. The workbench itself—if you can even call it that—is simple. Four posts of wooden 4”x4” boards, and two levels of particle board to serve as the work area and a shelf for tools, lube, and parts.

For some reason, the thought of that bench is… Frustrating, actually. It’s a fucking workbench. Where you cleaned and worked on your weapons for hours before a mission. So did Yang, since before you joined the team. Still, all that prep and care, and it did nothing for you. Yang is still dead. So what’s it matter that you keep cleaning your weapons and gear? What’s the point of that little wooden structure?

“You know, I still haven’t been able to ask you how you are.” Weiss turns around, and leans backwards against the makeshift furnishing. Grease stains her hands and part of her clothing, but that’s probably the last thing on her mind. Despite the fact that she’s standing on the completely opposite end of the hangar, you can still hear her clearly. Everything—even the airfield—is oddly quiet. The slightly hoarse rasp on the tail end of her sentences reminds you of what she might be bottling up. “Are you okay?”

She… she’s got enough on her plate. You really don’t need to add to it. “I’m fine.”

Weiss cocks her head, eyes running over your form quickly. Taking stock of you just like she’s been doing for the whole night. “You can’t lie to me anymore, you know that? What’s wrong?”

You shake your head, and let just the tip of the iceberg rear its head. “No. I’m really _not_ okay. Weiss, I just got rescued from months of torture and captivity, during which my teammate— _our_ teammate—died in front of me…” You purse your lips, and start to raise your voice to where it bounces off of the walls of the hangar and echoes. “… _And half the team blames me for it._ ”

Weiss’s voice is low. Soft. Retracting inward after you raised yours. “Switch…. It’s not like that.”

“Well, it should be. My head was on the chopping block. Not Yang’s.” Anger that mirrors what used to flare in Yang erupts in your mind.

You stand up, taking a handful of steps to close the distance between you and her. “And don’t you fucking tell me that a small part of you _doesn’t_ blame me for the fact that she’s—“

Weiss steps up to you and grabs your collar. “ _Shut up!_ ” She squeezes her eyelids shut, and the low light in the hangar isn’t enough to conceal the twinkle of water welling up at the corner of her eyes. “You blame yourself? I have slept less than 12 hours in the past _week_ because I have been worrying about you and her. Racking every intel network and pulling in every favor that was physically possible. We have been on half a dozen compound raids where you might’ve been kept, and came up empty at every. Single. One.”

She pushes away from you, but your gaze remains locked with hers when she opens her eyes again. “Kicking down doors with every bit of hope that _this time...”_

Her voice rises and cracks, forcing her to look away even though every fiber of your being is willing her just to look back at you. Tears start to well up at the corners of her eyes as she continues. “… you’d be there. That intel wasn’t wrong. And worrying that when I found you…” She purses her lips, her fingers curled into tight fists. “… it would just be a body.”

“Don’t blame yourself…” Your tone comes out a lot harsher than you want it to. This girl has been through so much, with her teammates all leaning on her, and _still_ she blames it on herself. Like you do.

She spins around, slamming her fists into the wood of the workbench. “The worst part? _We were too late._ No matter how hard I worked, I couldn’t find you and Yang fast enough. When I did find you… and Yang _wasn’t_ there, I knew what had happened. I think we all did, even before you told us. And the guilt…” Another shake of her head, one hand coming up to wipe at her cheeks. “You don’t know how I feel, Switch. Two teammates leaning on me, yet not wanting to be around at the same time.”

She abruptly stops, the sudden silence sending you reeling from her confession.

“You… think I don’t know how you feel, don’t you?” You take a few steps over to your bed, taking a seat on the sheets which feel distinctly… foreign and comforting at the same time. Like riding a childhood bicycle that’s not quite your size. “I think you feel _alone_ , Weiss. And I know all about feeling alone.”

You pause, and let out a breath, tension returning to your chest and quickening your heartbeat. “That was one of the worst parts about it all. After Yang was gone, every time they threw me back into the cell that Blake found me in, I was alone again. I didn’t know if you were coming. It’s… this terrible feeling. One that I think you’re feeling right now, even though I’m right here.”

The silence that ensues is deafening. One that you’re actually the first one to break. “Am… am I right?”

Weiss turns her head, the glistening and defeated seas of blue just catching your own. She nods.

“Then c’mere…” You stand, closing the distance to her with your arms open. Weiss closes her eyes and returns the gesture, tiredly nuzzling into the crook of your neck. Her slightly shorter stature forms into yours as her arms trace up your back.

“How did you get through it?”

You remember the time spent in the cell, waiting. Getting through each ‘session’ with Neo and avoiding Cinder’s questions to the best of your ability. “I.. went to my happy place. Took it moment by moment. I, uh… thought about you a lot…”

She squeezes you. _Hard._ “Hey… Switch?” Weiss’s breathing is shaky. Not heaving, but… not steady at all. You can feel it against your chest.

“Yeah?”

“You… said… that you felt alone during it all, and… I just don’t want you to feel alone anymore. _I_ don’t wanna feel alone anymore.” The hand on your back gently draws circles with the pad of her finger, an oddly soothing sensation that’s relieving some of the bound up tension in those muscles, but… you still can’t seem to shake how bound up your chest is.

You’re not sure… but you can physically _feel_ her relax in your arms, too. “Sweetheart, you’re not—“

She cuts in, squeezing you in the process. “What I’m trying to ask is if you’ll sleep with me tonight.”

For a moment, you tense even harder. The tightness in your chest still hasn’t faded. “Weiss…”

You feel her hand trace around your form, circling from your back to your chest and resting on your heart. She presses on it, ever so gently, squeezing you even more when she feels it. “It’s a yes or no question. I’m not asking for your company in anything more than sleep.”

“You know I’m probably going to have nightmares and not sleep very well at all…” Her scent is flowery, something you notice only now that she’s gotten so close. You remember waking up to it after the stab wound back in Atlas.

“I don’t care.” Her response is quick. As if she was expecting you to say that. She pauses, letting the sound of a jet taking off rumble through the hangar. Everything else is quiet. Dead silence. Enough that you can feel your own heartbeat against Weiss’s hand. “You don’t get to be alone anymore. Not while I’m here.”

Honestly? It’s… it’s a wonderful thought. One that you’re happy to oblige. “Okay, Weiss.”

After a few moments of just staying like that with her, she pulls out of your arms, takes your hands, and leads you over to _her_ bed. She sits on the edge, looking up at you with wide blue eyes, waiting.

A thought goes through your head, wondering… if she’d be okay with something. You lock gazes with her, and fiddle with the hem of your shirt, pulling it upwards slowly so that she can stop you.

But she doesn’t. She sits there, even gives you a gentle nod… you pull it the rest of the way off, revealing your atrophied physique and small scars from the needle criss-crossing your chest and back. Little white splotches in all the wrong places.

Weiss’s eyes widen and her hand comes up to her mouth in surprise. Your gut drops, and you can’t look at her like that. Not with how months of torture has impacted your body. You turn your head and shut your eyes when Weiss stands up again, and gently places her hand against a group of them on your shoulder. You tense, sucking in part of a breath as her finger trails against them, drawing imaginary lines for a moment. She cups your jaw, forcing you to look at her again.

You open your eyes, waiting for the look of disgust or lack of attraction in her glossy blue eyes. But it’s not there. Only understanding and comfort. One solemn look that whispers in hushed, gentle tones. _It’s okay._ _I don’t mind._

And just like that… her hands follow the scars around to your back, and you feel a gentle pressure pulling you two together, warmth and softness against your bare chest. She’s pulling you back into bed with her…

She nudges you down, the covers already rolled back and still radiating with a bit of her warmth from where she sat down. You sink onto it, grateful for Weiss’s taste in softer flannel sheets. She sits on the edge again, running her hand up and down your back as you settle in.

But… then she turns away, again. Looking off into the kitchen part of the hangar and leaning forward, her elbows on her knees. You cock an eyebrow, concerned, and just as you’re about to reach forward to her and say something, she stands again. And… you watch her.

Reaching up into her hair and letting the white band out, causing those thick strands of Schnee hair to fall from the ponytail and down her back. Slipping her fingers under the hem of her shirt and pulling it upward to peel it off, and watching her hair fall out of it once she has it completely off. The pale, fair skin contrasting with the simple white bra just enough that if there was any less light… you’d think she wasn’t wearing one. How quickly she slips her jeans off… and before long… how all of that skin of hers feels against yours.

She pulls the covers up and over both of you after climbing into bed, and for a moment, you can see a faint red blush covering her cheeks. But she gets closer and burrows into you. Her head finding its way under your arm and against your chest, and how it feels so, so _instinctual_ to pull her in with your arms squeezing her, and running your hand up and down her almost bare back….

“Sleep well, Y/N…” She whispers as she relaxes, her ear pressed against your heartbeat.

“And sweet dreams, Weiss…” You close your eyes…. Only moments before the comforting darkness of sleep claims you.


	37. Talk. Discuss. Debrief.

**A/N: So… it’s been close to two months since I posted my last chapter, and I’m so, so sorry. Lots of stuff going on, got sick for a little bit in there, and just took some time off of writing for a bit. Sorry I didn’t tell you all….**

**I’m also working on a collab fic in a completely different AU, so… stay tuned for that!**

**Without further ado, enjoy!**

 

_ You’re back in the fight. _

In a stack on the door. It’s dark. The only light around the compound is the yellow glow of headlights across the way, and the twinkling of stars. If you were doing this in a full moon, well, you wouldn’t be as invisible as you feel right now.

The door goes down. Weak pine painted with white, shattering as Weiss kicks it in off of the hinges. Metal snapping mixed with splintering wood; the sound of twenty twigs being broken at once. You’re the first one in, and your training kicks back in as it did months prior during Afterburner.

Clear the corners, sweep inward through the room. The gentle squeeze of the pressure pad on your rifle activates the light affixed to the forward rails. A circle of stark, white light appears, wreaking havoc on your night vision, but blinding anyone caught in the beam. 

No shots ring out. There’s no reason for you to fire.

A black shape moves past you, casting sudden shadows on the wall of the two-story structure you just entered. It’s Blake, with Ruby right on her tail as they push down the hallway on your right. It was part of the plan.

Was it? Was there even a plan? You can’t remember.

Instinctually, you and Weiss move up the two flights of stairs to the second floor. Divide and conquer, as some might say. You won’t have any contact with Blake and Ruby-- radio silence is a must in this kind of operation.

Stairs are tricky. Try walking up a staircase in the dark without looking at the steps. Now, add 40 lbs of gear and armor to your body, and do it in boots. Now, pick up a gun and remember that there could be someone who wants to kill you on the way up.

Training, Y/N. You’ve practiced this with the team. Your weapon light stays on, eyes trained upwards on the stair case. As you go up it, your muzzle stays fixated on each individual piece of new space that presents itself. You’ve taken the slack out of the trigger. All it takes is an extra pound of pressure, and the mechanism will release the firing pin. Bang. The bullet hits whoever the gun is pointed at, whether it be Grimm, Cinder, Neo…. or a friendly.

_ Gunshot _ .

Two more. Three more. All of the team had suppressed weapons… you shouldn’t be hearing gunshots. They’d break radio silence, right? If something was wrong? That’s part of the plan. Was there even a plan for this?

Press on. Your target is on the top floor. At least, you think it is.

Top of the stairs, open doorway with a hall extending out both ways. You and Weiss stack up on the doorway. She’s going left. You’re going right. A swift tap on the leg, and you move. Turn the corner, squeezing your weapon around it with Weiss opposite you.

At that moment… you can’t breathe. Your mouth is open but air won’t find its way through. Stifled, even though your lungs burn. But you’re not sure if something--  _ someone _ \-- has you by the throat, just like the White Fang Lieutenant did, or if it’s the scene in front of you.

It doesn’t make any sense.

But it’s no less horrifying.

Ruby. In a pool of crimson. Silver eyes open to you but no light therein. Mouth open like yours but no breath drawing through. Black hair parted and matted, brow still glistening from whatever fight she was just in. A few spent shell casings sticking to the floor as the blood begins to coagulate. You can see the stains low on her blouse. It… a wound like that, to the gut? It’s slow. And painful. But absolutely lethal.

You want to call out to her. Speak.  _ Pray  _ you get a response back. But you still can’t get any air to come out. Or go in.

“Aww… pity. She was such a sweet girl.” 

_ You know that voice. _

“Nice to see you again, Y/N.”

You whip around, bringing your gun to bear just like you’ve been trained to do. Thousands and thousands of times before. But it’s not there. No weight. No texture.  _ Nothing. _

In fact, the combat rig you were just in is nowhere to be found. Just tattered, ripped, bloodstained fatigues. 

Cinder. Fiery eyes that almost seem to glow in the dark. Inches away from you. You can feel the heat of her breath singe your cheek. It’s  _ revolting _ . Every fiber of your being telling you to run. To lash out. Something. But you can’t move still.

“Now… where did we leave off?.” She reaches up to touch her hand to your cheek. “Here?” Hand trails down to the crevice of your neck. Something glints in her other hand. A needle?  _ Another one? _

Gasp. Air fills your lungs. Cool. Fresh. Blackness fades away to the piercing yet comfortable sunlight beating through the windows of the hangar.

It’s more than just a gasp. It’s heaving. You’re in an unfamiliar place. Soft, flannel sheets that are distinctly warmer than those you normally wear. Sheets that are soaked with something wet. Sweat?

Piece by piece, things come back to you. First is sight. You know where you are now. Weiss’s bed. White hair ties on the makeshift nightstand. A spare pistol magazine. ID cards, all neat and orderly as if each one has its place. 

Sound. The beating of helicopter rotors going over top of the hangar. You recognize the sound as that of an Osprey. The shower running in the background of the hangar. Gentle soprano humming, hovering just underneath that. Whirs and clicks of the refrigerator fan kicking on.

You push the sheets back, their damp sensation reminding you of the dream you just had. Well.. nightmare, to say the least. Swinging your legs over the edge and placing them on the floor grounds you. Assures you that you’re  _ here. _ That’s it’s not a dream anymore.

The water in the shower turns off just as you stand up. The dryness in your mouth mirrors that of sand, and the half dozen sports drinks Yang normally keeps in the fridge are more than worth whatever flak she’s gonna give you for taking one.

You’ve barely made two steps by the time you remember.

_ Yang. _

How the hell could you forget? Even for a split second. You were there when  _ she died. _

“Y/N… you okay?” Weiss’s soft voice shouldn’t be very audible over the sound of another jet taking off, but you can hear it clear as day. The tones underneath it are gentle and reassuring. Like a pillow to your ears.

You respond with a subtle shake of the head. “Wish I was better.” You turn to look at her. She’s already dressed, a simple blue t-shirt and white athletic shorts. Her hair is wet, but the beige towel which she uses to gently pat at it is alleviating that ‘problem.’

“You had a nightmare last night, didn’t you?”

You can’t help but sigh. Did it keep her from sleeping? “I told you I would…”

She throws the lump of the towel back into the bathroom to land on the floor in a heap. Her footsteps pad across the hangar and over beside you. Her hand on your chest, nudging you to take a seat on the edge of the bed as she does the same. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

Another shake of the head. But… if there’s anything, a very small part of you  _ does  _ want to tell her. About everything. Cinder and Ruby and not being able to breathe… but Weiss has enough on her plate. If anything, you shouldn’t add to it. Even though she said that you’re all in this together after your first mission, the nightmare  _ really  _ isn’t something you want to think or talk about right now. 

“Well, just like before… you need to talk, you talk to the team. Please.” What you didn’t notice is how she’s been looking straight at you the entire time. Those seas of ice not reflecting tiredness or pain or anything of the sort. Her hand, still warm and slightly damp for the shower, reaches over to grip yours. Tightly. Forcing you to look at her. “ _ Promise me. _ Both as… well, whatever we are right now, and as a teammate.” Her tone is commanding, but not stern or harsh. Like she’s been here before.

You purse your lips, and gently nod. “I promise, Weiss.”

…

_ Col. Ozpin _

_ 44th SOD _

The placard to the office in front of you is pristine. Polished. If you stood back a little farther, you could probably see your reflection in it. Fitting for a Colonel.

With a deep sigh, you bring a fist up and knock on the door. Once, just like protocol states.

“Come in, please,” Ozpin’s voice calls from the other side.

The doorknob is cold to the touch as you reach forward and give it a turn. The room in the central tower greets you with scents that are an odd blend of both pine and rosemary, but also something oddly clean. Almost like bleach, but not so potent as to make your eyes water.

“Good afternoon, Y/N.” Ozpin stands from his desk, a deep mahogany with designs of gears and clocks etched into it. “Have a seat.” He gestures to a green chair at a sort of table on the left side of his office. The table is a glass top, and once again, perfectly polished.

You take a seat, keeping your hands off of the pristine glass, as if this officer-- your boss-- might get offended at your fingerprints on it. The faint chirping of a vintage clock fills the silence as Ozpin picks up his coffee cup and takes a seat at the glass table, across from you.

“You said you wanted to talk to me, sir?”

Ozpin narrows his gaze, his words coming slow and deliberate. “Talk, yes. Discuss. Debrief. These past few months have been…” He seems to pause, thinking on his words even though you get the feeling that he already knows  _ exactly _ what he’s going to say. “... Trying, to say the least.”

You glance down at your hands, lightly gripping the arms of your chair. “We lost Specialist Xiao Long.”

“I know, Switch. I’ve read through the cursory report that Weiss put together.” Another pause, his eyes looking you over. Reading your body language, but not in a way that seems prying or judgmental. “Yang’s death has  _ all _ of us grieving. Huntsmen and Huntresses are a family, spanning across all four kingdoms. We all remember the fallen in our own ways.”

Your eyes follow the outline of the table over to a shelf behind Ozpin’s desk. Resting on each wooden plank are relics. Photographs. A rack of coins with various markings on them from different squadrons. You open your mouth, faintly drawing in a slow breath to speak.

“However, Y/N, I also understand how certain events can be, well, haunting.” Another pause as he sips from his coffee cup. His words are slow, easy to follow. Unlike other officers who simply want to talk fast and get you out of their office. He leans forward on the table. “I know how dangerous coming home from that can be. It is a different kind of battle. I don’t pretend to know what you endured.”

The last sentence drags out, with images of your ordeal going through your head. The ‘casual’ punch from Emerald and Mercury as you were removed from your cell. Cinder burning Yang’s photograph. Needles.

_ “No… You… Get away from him…” _

“Switch?”

Images fade. You come back to Ozpin’s office, seated in the green chair. Your eyes refocus on a picture on the wall behind Ozpin. A photo of three of Vale’s newest fighter jets astride a bomber. The planes are flying over the red leaves of Forever Fall. “I… I’m here. Sorry.”

“I don’t pretend to know what you’ve endured, as I said. But… I can imagine, and in some cases, I can relate.” His tone is hushed. As if someone may overhear, even in the silence of his office. Much more personal than it should be for an officer. Especially a colonel.

“How did you get through it?” The question escapes your lips, as if your body speaks it before your mind is aware.

Ozpin doesn’t miss a beat. As if he’s expecting the question. “Lean on your team. You four are stronger than you think, even without Yang. Please… keep that in mind.”

He’s the one to continue. “Also… there are many, many other resources out there besides your team. I’ll send a list of phone numbers to your scroll.” He glances at his hand, setting a white piece of paper that appears to be a business card across from you. Scribbled across the top, in green pen, is another number. His personal cell number, something that officers as high as him never give out. “You know how to reach me, as well.”

A breath. More of a sigh. “Yes… sir.”

…

Ruby’s punch connects with the backside of your forearm as you instinctively bring a hand up to block it. Your left fist reacts, shooting straight out and connecting with the side of her jaw. 

It’s been three months since your meeting with Ozpin, and here you are with your team leader, beating the heck out of each other in the combatives room in the base gym. Your black gloves are slick with sweat, as are hers, from the hits you’ve landed on eachother. 

It… hasn’t been an easy few months. You’ve got new gear. It’s not what you had before Afterburner, but in some cases, it’s better. Summer is starting to end in Vale, with the colors of the leaves just beginning to change. Neither you nor the team has been outside the wire, but that doesn’t mean you’re not ready to go. The gloves and handwraps covering your knuckles proves that.

Meetings. Briefings. Dining outs. Waves of “How are you?” and “I’m so sorry to hear about Yang.” Prying eyes wondering if everything you said is true. People just… trying to get into your head, but can you blame them? Training with the team again has definitely helped take the edge off. Sparring and shooting with Ruby, morning runs with Blake, going to the base gym just to lift on your own. Weiss keeps trying to convince you to join her at the pool for a few laps. Says it’s “great cardio” and that “you’d love it.” Little by little, your strength has come back to you, but the scars haven’t left. 

Especially the mental ones. The nightmares haven’t stopped.

“So… Switch…” Ruby dashes backwards, out of your reach even as you try to throw another jab. “What’s on your mind? You’re fighting differently today.” 

Ruby isn’t even breathing hard, but you’re panting. She could always move faster, but you have a bit more power than her. You answer her in between breaths. “It’s… just that I’m ready… ready to go.”

You move forward, one foot stepping, the other sliding. Ruby circles to your left and attempts a straight-up cross with her right hand, but it deflects with a glancing blow as you block it with the glove.

“We’ll get our chance.” She keeps trying to dance around to your left side.

But you just turn, cutting her angles. “Just…” You throw a jab. Another jab. Followed up with a right cross. “Wanna get back in the action… Get my mind off of things here… Make a difference…” You grunt, pressing her boundaries farther and keeping the combo going. Cross. Jab. Hook to the gut. “I’m a warfighter. I need to get… Back in the saddle…”

Ruby gasps as the hook to the gut connects and knocks the air out of her. But still, she makes room. Hops back with speed that she  _ shouldn’t _ have. Or maybe you’re just that slow. She drops her fists, putting up a hand. That hook really did a number on her. “I get that. Honestly… I kinda feel the same way. Like we’re all getting antsy.”

With her still doubled over, you bring your hand up to rip at the velcro of the boxing glove with your teeth. The leather stinks, with two months of your sweat and grime getting baked into it from the sparring matches. “Wanna call it a day for fighting?”

She doesn’t reply, just nods. The kind of nod that both affirms your answer and assures you that she’ll be okay. Thick and wet locks spill down into her face, but she makes no attempt to brush them away just yet.

You leave her be, and slide out of the ropes of the ring. Quickly peel off the gloves and handwraps, toss them into your gym bag. Talking about something that stinks… your gym bag is even worse than the gloves. But isn’t everyone’s bag like that?

Fast shower to rinse off in the locker room. You’ve got the place to yourself, and as you’re getting dressed again, you see them again. Scars. Little white dots in all the wrong places. Around the tendons of your knees. In your wrists. On your hands, between the fingers. You know there’s more on your back, but you dispel the thought by tugging your shirt on that much quicker. 

Ruby meets you at the front door, no longer winded as she flashes you her textbook smile. Her hair is wet-- she cleaned up, too. Changed into a crimson, form-fitting long sleeve with thicker black pants and, you guessed it, boots as her shoes. She’s always wearing them.

The walk back to the hangar always seems like it gets longer, but that isn’t enough to convince you to drive. Driving to the gym that’s easily within walking distance is irony at its finest.

Your conversation with Ruby consists of something that resembles a debate more than actual conversation. It’s a conversation that you’ve had with her many times before, but it never gets old: ammunition. 7.62 vs. 5.56. .45 vs 9mm. The apparent ‘hype’ about .300 Blackout. The raw power of .50 BMG.

Before long, you find yourself setting down your gym bag in the hangar.

“ _ Hey. Dolts _ .” You turn to see Weiss in her camos, sleeves already rolled, standing cross-armed by her makeshift desk. “What’s the quickest you can be ready to go?”

“Ready to go?” You ask, confused. She can’t mean outside the wire?

“Six minutes, if you load mags.” Ruby answers for you. She’s right. Just like the six minute drill the team woke you up with on your second day.

“Done. We’ve got a green light, and we’ve got a lead. Suit up.”

Involuntary contractions tug at your lip, forcing it to turn up into a smile as you rip open the bag where your plate carrier is stored. “Let’s get back in the fight.”


	38. Contact

**A/N: I want y’all to picture something-- Mushu’s “I LIVE!” moment from Disney’s Mulan. That’s what I feel like putting this up for you. I’m… going in a different direction, here. I had another plan, but this… actually got put to paper and my mind is finding more inspiration with it, so… hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think!**

**My enduring thanks to flagbearer_or_scouts for her continued help and support and general awesomeness!**

**\---**

Ears ringing. Everything’s blurry. Some big, heavy weight on your chest making it hard to breathe.

_ “Switch? You okay?” _

Something rises in your throat. Not… nausea. Not that you think, anyway. The bells in your ears don’t stop as somebody keeps calling out to you.

_ “Damn it, please tell me that’s not your blood.” _

You feel fingers and palms digging in between you and whatever’s on top of you. Lifting the weight off as you suck in a huge gasp of air. Your lungs expand, but the cotton fibers of your undershirt stick to moisture on your chest. Too much to just be sweat.

You start to remember. Little by little. 

Ruby pulls you to sit up, and finds your rifle beside you. She pushes it into your hands. Her face is caked with dust, and she shakes away disheveled, sweaty hair out of her eyes. 

Your ears are still ringing. You see her lips moving, and it takes your best effort to pick out what she’s saying. It’s almost like she has to shout at you to get it across. “Hey! Are you hurt?”

You shake your head, grimacing at how that only makes your head hurt more. “No… no, what happened?”

You let your eyes wander, seeing the lifeless Grimm body that Ruby rolled off of you. His blood on your new gear. The bootprints outlined in crimson on the shiny concrete floor.

Ruby seems to let out a sigh of relief, but she doesn’t stop looking you over. “Grimm jumped you as soon as you came into the room. You don’t remember it?”

You try to remember, but currently, the ringing isn’t calming down at all and you’re just struggling to breath without the world spinning around you. “I… remember rolling on the ground… his gun going off by my ear….”

That explains the ringing. 

“He hit you on the head pretty hard.” Ruby pulls a red rag out of her gear, and presses it against your forehead, starting to wipe away something you can’t quite see. “Do you know where you are?”

It starts to come back. “Grimm compound… far north of Vale, enemy territory… trying to get intel…?” You ask, starting to look past Ruby, and searching for clues to help jog your memory again. The room is dark, with only computer monitors lighting it. Shapes and squares like cubicles line the walls, with big, blocky server units in the center. A mess of wires and cables run from the servers to the ceiling. 

To your left, Weiss is at a computer, the chair rolled away haphazardly. Her brow is furrowed, furiously going back and forth from typing to clicking with the mouse. She glances over to you and Ruby, then goes back to the screen. “It’s all here, Ruby. I’ll grab as much as I can before it auto-purges.”

“Good. Make it quick.” Ruby stands up, and takes your hand when she does. She swiftly pulls you up to your feet.

You stumble for a moment, regaining your bearings and trying to get the world to stop spinning. You put your hand on a nearby wall, steadying yourself. Surprisingly, the pistol grip of your rifle is more grounding than the wall. “Whatever schematics and shipments you’re getting off of that computer  _ better _ be worth it…”

Weiss doesn’t look away from the screen. “We’re getting more than just schematics and shipments. Names and locations of leaders, development plans, force deployment numbers… this could help win the war  _ and  _ help us find Cinder.”

“Well, good to see he didn’t hit you too hard.” Blake’s voice comes from behind you. She’s standing at the doorway, the hinges and latch all blown in from when you all first breached the room. “Glad I stopped him from turning you into a mess on the floor.”

_ That’s right.  _ Blake saved your life. Shot the Grimm who tackled you while you wrestled him and his gun.

Maiden cuts your thoughts short, breaking in on your earpiece. “RWBY, Maiden. The UAV is showing a lot of movement heading towards you. You’ve got ten minutes before things get hairy.”

First your head hurting, then this. “Sunuva-”

“Switch.” Ruby snaps back at you, the slightest tinge of irritation on her tongue. “Weiss, how long?”

“30 seconds. Trying to grab as much as possible.” Weiss spouts back, never taking her eyes off of the monitor.

“Got it. The way things are going, helicopters aren’t going to be able to pull us out. Blake, Switch, head outside and find something that runs and that you can drive.”

“On it.” You tap Blake on the shoulder as you move out of the server room, the blurriness starting to fade as you get moving again. You still don’t have your feet completely underneath you, but it’s getting there. 

You pass through a sort of lobby with more cubicles, and better lighting. Where the server room only had one dead Grimm body in it, this one has several-- your team’s handiwork. You only saw it in passing on the way in, and now on the way out. You punch open the outer door-- what’s left of it-- and step into the compound. 

Everything is surrounded both by forest and barbed wire fencing. In fact, the Grimm never so much as cleared a space for it; they just built everything  _ around _ the forest, from the simple wooden server building to the garage to the barracks. Probably pretty hard to spot from the air, but apparently Weiss’s ‘lead’ was from a Mistral cyber defense team.

“There were two trucks in that garage when we cleared it earlier,” Blake said as she strode towards it. “One of them has to have fuel.” 

You keep pace with Blake, watching to the right as she watches to the left. Everything feels… on edge. The real action took place when you four originally got into the compound, but with Maiden’s report… things could heat up again. 

No birds chirping. Slight breeze from the west rustles leaves and moves branches higher up in the canopy. No rays of light break through the trees. It’s overcast, keeping the temperature low, but not enough that you’re uncomfortable with rolled sleeves. Everything is… still.

The garage is more of a double carport. Cinder block walls with a horizontal sheet metal roof. Everything painted green to mirror the forest. Vines are starting to grow up the sides, and small troughs around the edges form where gutters are supposed to be. Two trucks are facing outward, both dirty and worn from what appears to be lots of offroad use. One is colored in brown, the other black.

Wordlessly, you head toward the brown one. The door opens to reveal worn cloth seats, speckled with dirt and mud as if it had never been washed. The keys are in the ignition, and when you turn the key, the engine comes to life without hesitation. A smile begins to tug at the corner of your lips as you key your radio. “RWBY 1 and 2, your ride’s outside.” 

Ruby’s voice comes back to you. “Copy. We’re lighting up these servers with thermite. Meet you outside in one minute.” 

“Make it quick. See you outside.” Blake calls back, suddenly right beside your door and nudging you out with a hand on your arm. “Out. I’m driving.”

You nod, and start to shimmy out of the seat. 

Suddenly, Blake’s head snaps sideways, eyeing something you can’t quite see. Her eyes are cut into cat slits.

Her fingers curl in the bloodied fabric of your sleeve, and she yanks you out of the driver’s seat. Hard. As you hit the ground for the second time in the past hour… the windshield shatters, showering you and her with glass.

“Contact! Front, 50 yards!”

The trees beyond erupt with flashes of light as hisses and cracks shoot past you and into the garage. You claw over to the wall of the garage as Blake steadies her rifle against the door of the truck and fires back. 

“Ruby! Shit just got real out here. You and Weiss need to egress  _ now. _ ” You call out into your radio’s mic. You get up to your knees, and crawl across the concrete to the open space where the garage door should be. You bring your rifle up against the cinder block, silently praying that it’s strong enough to stand up to Grimm bullets.

The fire seems to come in waves-- you and Blake shoot in bursts, then they respond in kind with a volley. 

“Hey!” You hear a shout through the firefight. It’s Weiss, across the compound. Both her and Ruby’s gun start to echo through to you. “Blake! Switch! Let’s get out of here!”

“Don’t have to ask me twice.” You dive into the bed of the truck, throwing an empty mag from your rifle to the side and digging a new one from the folds of your rig. Blake has the same idea, jumping into the driver’s seat and slamming it into gear. The rear tires squeal on the concrete as the truck roars out of the garage.

The G-forces throw you back against the tailgate, then forward against the rear windshield as Blake brakes again. Ruby jumps in the back with you, Weiss into the passenger seat, and you’re gone. Blowing through the hole in the fence that you came in, with you making yourself as low in the bed as you can, gun barrel over the edge.

Shots are ringing out all around you. Hisses and bangs followed by reports from Myrtenaster up front. Ruby’s spent shell casings ejecting from her rifle and hitting you, but all you’re focused on is pulling the trigger when your reticle crosses the black shapes and forms as you go by.

“Maiden, RWBY 2--” Weiss says into her radio between shots. “Acquired civilian transport, troops in contact, moving--” More shots, but she keeps her mic keyed in. Anyone on this frequency can hear what you’re hearing. “--south on unnamed road. Requesting immediate QRF and black LZ at--” She looks down at her forearm, numbers scrawled in permanent marker on her skin. “-- same grid designator, coordinates 167, space 992.”

“Hey!” Ruby kicks your foot. “Focus and get back on the trigger!” She shouts at you as she reloads Crescent Rose. In a split second, her gun barrel is back on the rail of the bed, her boots trying to brace against the wheel well and tailgate for purchase to shoot.

She closes one eye, then swears under her breath as she shakes a loose lock out of her face. “I’m cutting my bangs as soon as we get out of this!”

“No, you’re not.” Weiss calls back from the front. 

Blake pipes up from the driver’s seat, her hands sawing at the wheel to keep the truck on the narrow dirt road. “Says the girl with a ponytail.”

“How the hell are you all able to talk about hair while getting shot at?!” You shout at the three, your bolt locking back as you drop lower into the bed to reload.

Weiss fires back at you from the cab. “Go and ask Lie Ren, he’ll tell you how it works.”

You shake your head, and sit up again to shoot. Your eyes and muscle memory kick in before you recognize the telltale puff of red and yellow, followed by the white contrail.

“Rocket!”

Whether or not Blake heard you, or if she was already swerving… you can’t tell. But you  _ can  _ smell the burning plastic odor of the chemtrail as it arcs over you. The cinders and ash when the warhead pulverizes a tree beside the road.

“You’re good luck when it comes to rockets, Switch!” Ruby shouts over to you. She sounds out of breath. So are you.

“Rather be lucky than good.”

“You  _ always _ say that.” Weiss cracks back to the bed.

“Well… it’s true.”

“I think we’re clear.” Blake cuts in.

She’s right. No more rounds or rockets coming in at you. Just the dirt road, and the truck roaring along it. 

“So… you gonna cut your bangs, Ruby?” You ask, giving her a teasing nudge.

“On second thought?” She brings a gloved hand up and runs it through the entirety of her hair. “I’m gonna keep it all.”

“Maiden, update on that extraction? We’re clear for the moment but this is Grimm territory.” Weiss is still out of breath, but the radio call is still calm. Rehearsed.

“QRF is spinning up now, and we’re doing what we can to get you some air support. You gotta hang tight.”

“Easier said than done…” Ruby says under her breath. “Switch, keep watching right, Weiss, keep watching front.”

A bump in the road jars you and Ruby, sending you smacking into each other in the bed. You right yourself on the bedrail, and brace for any more bumps. Odds are there will be more.

Out of the corner of your eye, there’s movement. Not, like, movement of the trees as the truck zooms past them, but movement that makes you know that something is there. You strain your eyes so the passing leaves and branches fade out of priority for a moment, and you can see the outlines. Black uniforms. Red accents.

“Contact, driver’s side!” You call out, rolling enough to get a bead on the outline. Three pulls of the trigger, and over a dozen more shots come back at you. “Guess we’re not out of the woods yet…”


End file.
